Today's Mostly True Short Story: The Box - The Little Car That Could

2003 Honda Element, a.k.a. The Box

There is little doubt that Americans are crazy about cars. It wasn't always that way, but that's a story for another day.* Generally speaking, next to buying a home, purchasing a vehicle is one of the largest investments we will make in our lifetime. So, it's important that we get it right. In fact, owning a car has become a modern day necessity. And, despite current efforts to increase the use of public transportation and encourage other alternatives to driving, there are more vehicles on the road than ever before.

But, for most of us, a car is more than just a mere means of transportation. It is often seen as an extension of our very personalities. Perhaps, that's why there is such a dizzying array of makes, models, and colors to choose from. And, just like their owners can come in all shapes and sizes, too - from compacts to vans to sports cars to SUVs. Whether we choose them for practical purposes or to make a style statement, the car is often a reflection of what we represent to others. And, if you own one long enough, they can almost become like old friends.

I believe that all of us can look back to a vehicle that has special meaning to us, e.g. the car you learned to drive with, your dad's old Buick with the muffler loud enough for your neighbors to know every time you left your driveway, the first car you purchased for yourself, the hot convertible you showed off in, or the clunker your friends had to push so that you could jump start it.

Sometimes, like an old pair of worn out shoes or ripped jeans you should just get rid of, but just can't because they just fit you so well, you hang on to one way longer than you probably should have.

Such was the case with one of my vehicles that we affectionately dubbed The Box. At the time (2003) I was looking for an inexpensive, not-too-large, efficient SUV to haul my camera gear in when my then wife and I noticed a newly released Honda model known as the Element. God, it was funny looking - perfectly square - hence the moniker, The Box. However, after driving many other makes and models, none could compare to the overall quality and efficiency of the Honda. So, we bought it.

And, I kept it for 17 years and drove it for over 287,000 miles (287,588 to be exact) with virtually no major issues until recently. The Box was fun, easy, and despite it's awkward appearance, incredibly efficient. She did everything I ever asked her to do. Through heat, cold, rain, or snow, she simply never failed. I suppose that's why I related to that vehicle so much - I think she reminded me of, well, ME - not all that much to look at but, boy, she NEVER failed - reliable until the very end (something I also aspire to) and, again, as I hope to be, totally spent.

People would reasonably ask, why not simply buy another, newer one. And, I would have except that Honda decided to stop making the Element in 2011. So, I hung on to it for as long as I possible could - probably too long.

Over the last few months The Box really started to show her age. She even started to groan like an old person! The clutch started to squeak so much that when my mother rode with me she would ask, "does your car always speak to you that way?" She started to leak radiator fluid (possibly due to a cracked head). I even lost my cruise control because my mechanic said that it had simply rusted away. Because I needed new shocks and struts get around with her was like being on some kind of amusement park thrill ride. Then, like a VERY old lady, she had trouble starting up in the morning. The Box's greatest assets - consistency and reliability -were now gone. And, it was going to cost a bunch of $ to keep her going. My mechanic, whom I trust completely, advised that it was simply time to let her go. Like a dear old pet, I was hanging on for me, not for the car.

So, with some sadness and much gratitude, I put the old gal out to pasture - or, at least to my mechanic's lot, unfortunately, to be sold for scrap. I suppose that's a rather inglorious end, but it must be. That car owes me nothing and will stand apart from all the others. Good bye, friend, rest well now. God speed. You've reached the end of your highway.

*https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/why-americas-love-affair-cars-no-accident/