I have this longstanding superstition. I’ll never put a new music player in an older car. I’m sure the moment I commit to some nice little luxury like that the vehicle will come down with a dreaded car illness — beyond repair.
The CD player in the Xterra never worked properly, but never got replaced in the five or six years I owned it because … doom.
Old Blue doesn’t even have a CD player, just a radio that jumps randomly every few seconds from NPR to heavy metal to Mexican oompah music. So I never use it. I’ve missed having pleasant sounds in the car, but I’ve MUST follow my no new music systems rule. OR … doom.
After Blue’s December breakdown, I got to casually pricing low-end Hondas and Toyotas. Fits and Yarises. Used ones, five or six years old. And I was pretty shocked at the prices you have to pay these days for “older but reliable.” I ended up telling myself, “That’s it. I’m keeping Old Blue as long as I can, and I’ll pay whatever it takes to get her fixed when she breaks — unless maybe the engine blows up or the transmission fails. Then I’ll go on foot. Done it before; can do it again.”
Old Blue’s been running really well since December, though. Like she’s going to last forever. And you know, I thought, if I’m keeping her I sure would like some music.
Yeah. I broke my rule. I defied my superstition. I bought a Kenwood CD player on eBay. Older model, but still with Bluetooth and USB and other good stuff. It arrived late last week.
My mechanic texted me just now with his diagnosis of the mystery problem Old Blue developed during my travels: transmission’s failing.
I know the gods find this sort of thing absolutely knee-slappingly hilarious. But I am not amused.
I guess by the standards of gods, I’m now supposed to be grateful that at least it’s just a dying transmission, not a dying transmission plus surgery. I’ll try to work up my gratitude for that. Later.