Goodbye Beemer

I LOVE German cars, and beer.  I have had many cars since getting my drivers license, most of which ended up totaled from my inept driving skills.  I am a MUCH better driver now, thank God.  The majority of those cars have been Volkswagens, beetles to be exact.  

After the hurricane we decided it was time to trade Jeremy's Grand Am ('Ol Verde) in for a new vehicle.  Since losing everything, I was in this mindset that if I had to replace everything it was going to be replaced with the nicest things that we could afford, even if it took forever.

I convinced Jeremy to test drive a BMW, and for all his scoffing, once he did he was hooked.  We bought our Beemer that day and I have loved it ever since.

As part of the Green Experiment I am selling my car, and while the BMW is technically both of our cars, it costs more to fill with gas and can transport less than our other car, a Jetta station wagon.  And anyway, I think Jeremy would rather give up sex for life than part with the Yakima rack that is on the Jetta.

So, this is my goodbye letter to the Beemer.

Dear Beemer,

This is goodbye.  If cars could be lovers, you my dear, are tops.  I say this goodbye with a tear in my eye and a pain in my materialistic little heart.  

I remember the first time that I saw you.  Even though you were a little older than the other cars around you, you outshone them by miles.  Your body was something straight out of my dreams and when we test drove you I sat in your back seat and stroked your supple leather arm rest and imagined my fisrt child being cradled protectively in that very seat.

It was always a struggle for your attention between Jeremy and me, but then the Yakima came along and he moved on in the blink of an eye.  Men... typical.  But I never stopped loving you and once I had you all to myself  we were so happy because unlike him, you LOVE to take me shopping.

You have transported me safely and luxuriously time and time again, and I thank you for that.  You have tolerated my ear-splitting attempt at singing, and your radio has even done a nice job of making me sound not half bad at times.  Thank you.  

It was you who took me safely home to visit my parents when I was 6 months pregnant and everyone balked at me driving a thousand miles by myself.  And it was you again who took me home when Jeremy went to Kuwait.  You did cradle my first child safely in your seat day in and day out and you never complained when she threw milk and crumbled up goldfish crackers all over your fine leather.  Because that's just the kind of classy car you are..  Thank you.

Giving you up is a very hard thing for me to, and that boy in Brokeback Mountain said it best when he said: I wish I knew how to quit you.  

Quittin you makes me sad, but we both know it's the right thing to do even though that doesn't make it any easier.  I hope you always love my butt in your driver's seat better than anyone else's.  

Goodbye pretty lady,

Jillian