Ode to the XC90

I am not one to call an inanimate object a friend. I don’t care about things in that way. Well, except for that well-worn pair of Frye boots nestled in the back corner of my closet. But I digress.

Tomorrow, I will drive my 2007 Volvo to Sausalito, leave it (gender never assigned) along with all keys, title and registration and drive home in a 2016 overpriced, unremarkable Toyota contraption. I was about to do this without pause, and certainly without fanfare. I didn’t want a new car but my old car has become a money trap. I have been avoiding/researching this transaction for months and have finally jumped in feet first, pen to paper and here we are.

Today, however, as I cleaned said Volvo, emptied the glove compartment of lint rollers, bandaids and pens, I sadness moved in with me. This human tortoise shell has played so many roles in my life story. It was purchased at a time of national economic irresponsibility — with cash. It was the fanciest thing I had ever owned at the time, the result of a bloated housing market and an even more bloated sense of security. A beach in the South of France compared to my lifetime of Jersey Shores. It made me both proud and embarrassed, a perfect example of the ongoing struggle I experience with my own class climbing.

But,in a matter of no time, it was simply the way I got from point A to point B. And C, D, E and so on.

I didn’t track the detailed trips, but I stand behind these numbers:

  • 125 baseball games
  • 50 soccer games
  • 60 round trips to our cabin
  • 500 cases of wine
  • Dozens of school trips and birthday parties
  • Concerts, dinners, drinks and friends
  • Long drives to Idaho, Joshua Tree, and a round trip to LA in one day to get the best dining room table
  • Trucking renovation supplies for two houses and one new office/studio
  • Three house moves
  • 100 special event load in and out
  • The only place I could get a few minutes alone when the kids were little
  • The one place I could cry my loudest when my relationship fell apart
  • The only thing I owned when all else felt lost

So here’s to inanimate objects. To the things in our lives we can always live without. But perhaps live a little better with them.