Oh 1989 Honda Civic 4DR DX.
Do not die on me. I need you now. Refuse to go into the great headlight in the sky, sweet 1989 Honda Civic 4DR DX.
It is better here with me than in the after life of used cardom, where the streets are tarred with gold and you can have all the premium gas your engine desires.
Yes, I know you are in pain. The cracks in your windshield, the black rubber thing that once held your driver's side window firm and strong now flaps in the wind, alerting all that pass that you are, indeed, a car with over 180k on it.
But I love you, 1989 Honda Civic 4DR DX. I love you so very very much and these imperfections are only reminders of the good times that we've had.
Your two tone dash of brown and blue may look white trash to some, but to me it is a reminder that you are a survivor. You survived the great Stereo Theft of 2000 with such strength, such courage... and the baby-shit-brown replacement console is your badge of honor.
Your paint still shines bright even after the egging incident of 2001.
Your bumper is stained with the gluey remenants of stickers past. The names of Liberal politicians were once set next to stickers of bands that have now sold-out to the Man.... much like their political counterparts. Your doors are dented and soiled from parking lot encounters of woe. Your interior has stains of coffee, sodas, and film from asses that have been carried swiftly by your sturdy foriegn frame. Unthanked. Unapologetic. You took it like the foriegn car that you are.
I know that I may not treat you as you deserve to be treated. I know that I should change your oil every 3 months and have wheels rotated and aligned on a scheduled basis. I know that you need such things like insurance, registration, and inspection.... but I am only human and put myself before you.
So self-centered am I. I apologize.
And now, 1989 Honda Civic 4DR DX, now you sit alone in a parking lot of an established eatery. On your last wheel, perhaps. I've done all that I know how to do. 2 Quarts of Quaker State. Refilled the radiator. Tried to turn your engine again and again.
But you do not move. Cannot. Will not.
I understand that it is hard to go on, and that you may feel unloved, unwanted, not needed. But such is not the case, 1989 Honda Civic 4DR DX.
You are my car. My pimptastic ride. My sweet horseless carriage of awesomeness. I need you. I want you. I want to be inside of you and ride you all. night. long.
Those that know say that you may need a rotor and a distributor cap. If that's what it is, I will get the best my $30 budget can afford.
But, if this is the last time I can express my love and need for you, I want to tell you this while you are still coherent and your battery is charged.
PLEASE DON'T DIE ON ME NOW. I NEED YOU. I WILL NOT BE ABLE GO ANYWHERE WITHOUT YOU. DON'T FORCE ME INTO A LIFE OF PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION, 1989 HONDA CIVIC 4DR DX. PLEASE. DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE.
And with that, I visit the NAPA auto parts place and hope that they have some remedy to bring back the spark that once made you go.
How I hope that spark will ignite you again to what you once were.