Goodbye, Malibu

1998 Chevrolet Malibu, (a.k.a. the Bu)

My '92 Chrysler LeBaron was a great car, but on the first day of my food-delivery job five years ago, it met its maker. I coasted into the Blaine Library parking lot, the car in jeopardy of combusting. From a pay-phone (these were pre-cell-phone days), I called my dad; he would come pick me up as soon as he could. I called work and explained the situation; they understood and told me to get back to them as soon as I could. So, there I sat. I had an overheated LeBaron and a food-delivery career in limbo.

"Having car problems?" said a voice from behind me.

What's it look like? I wanted to say as I stared down at the steaming engine. "Yes," I actually replied, looking up and seeing an elderly woman.

"Well I am selling my car, let me get you a flyer."

She meandered back to her '98 Chevy Malibu, a car that I immediately judged was out of my price range. "Here you are," she said, handing me a sheet of paper with some information on it.

"Thanks"

"You're welcome. Call me at the number listed if you are interested." She was a master at stating the obvious.

"I will," I replied, as she turned to return her books to the library.

My dad arrived. We added some coolant to the LeBaron and made our way home. I pulled the flyer the woman had given me out of my pocket. It read something like this:

1998 Chevrolet Malibu
New Tires
Power Locks and Windows
Clean
High Mileage
$1,990

That was most definitely within my price range. I showed my dad and he prompted me to call the woman. Soon we were on our way to look at the car.

We arrived and asked all the necessary questions to which the woman answered to our liking. We drove the car and it was in better shape than I could have hoped for. It turned out that she had bought a new car and wanted to sell the Malibu because of the high mileage, but we also learned the her father lived in South Dakota and had just recently died of cancer. So, she would make many trips there and back accounting for the excessive miles. That, I could deal with.

There was no hesitation in my dad's voice when he told me that I should buy the car. So, I did.

The car made multiple trips to the cities and back to Fargo and was a wonderful car for five years with minimal problems.

Recently, the high mileage of the vehicle reared its ugly head and it was soon beyond repair. Last week I sold the car to a mechanic for $300.

Cars are hunks of metal and gears that depreciate rapidly and yield no return. But if there was ever a vehicle that rose above that truth, it was the Bu.