Before anyone accuses me of airing family secrets, though, please understand, I'm not talking about another person. It's not my parents or my wife or my brother. My son is six months old, so we're still cool as well.
It's my car.
When I purchased my car new in October 2003, it was a wonderful love affair. I even got to drive it off the showroom floor, an experience I doubt I'll duplicate in my lifetime.
And the first few years of driving were wonderful -- great handling, some zip when I need it and great gas mileage.
At one time, they marketed the Mini as the first street league go-cart. They weren't just being witty about the tiny car, that was exactly what it felt like.
Since then, though, the car has aged, and with that came the bills. No sooner did I get it paid off than the bottom fell out. I hit 100,000 miles and it was a laundry list of problems. The hatch is broken, the exhaust sounds terrible, the radio won't turn off when it rains, the power steering motor went bad.
These last few months have been especially bad. First the clutch went out, and no sooner did I get it back than the transmission followed suit.
$4,000 later, I have the car back. Having not driven it for almost two months, I got in it and fell in love again. Even the snow that has cause so much consternation in the Midwest was no problem. Those cars handle surprisingly well on snow.
I love you car. I've missed you so much.
But with the transmission no longer making its horrible noise, I could hear well enough to notice something else: the exhaust system is bad need of repair. And I'm fresh out of cash.
I remember this song and dance. I hate that stupid car.
Jared Jernagan is the assistant editor of the Banner Graphic. He can be reached at 653-5151, extension 21 or firstname.lastname@example.org.