Me and Jimmy

It hasn't taken long for me to realize that my vehicle is aging right along side of me. Since the Jimmy I drive has only had me as it's owner, I've been witness to all of its successes and failures. Definitely more successes than failures in the last eight years, but I fear the next eight years might not be so kind to the Jimmy.

Somehow the miles keep adding up. I looked down at the odometer the other day and was shocked to see that Jimmy and I had gone over 107,000 miles together. Now honestly, I don't know why I was shocked, because I've been watching the miles tick by fairly quickly out here in the vast state of Montana. Just because the speed limit is above 70 mph doesn't mean the miles are disappearing. Though admittedly, that is what it feels like at times.

In the midst of driving home from one of my hitches (extended camping trips with the MCC) the other day, my rearview mirror detaches from my windshield, hits the dash, and lies there lifeless like it never had a service that it provided me for the past eight years. I haven't been able to revive my rearview mirror yet, therefore my side mirrors are getting quite the workout. I'm just hoping they don't feel overworked and decide to jump ship!

I guess it has been a couple years now, but I distinctly remember the moment when the cover on the sunvisor mirror decided it didn't need to be connected to the mirror anymore. That resulted in a bruise on the bridge of my nose when it came sliding down the visor like a luge on an icy hill straight into my face! And every so often, I forget that it is not attached, and that I've only set it on top of my mirror to keep the little light from burning out, and the mirror cover ambushes me again at the same moment that the sun is searing my eyeballs, and all I want is a little repreive from the deadly glare, but instead I'm left with a smarting wound on my face.

I've had to replace the brakes on the Jimmy twice, fix the bearings in the left front tire twice, replace two flats, replace the bushing around the pin in the door hinge, and do the regular maintenance type upkeeps in the past eight years. And I've honestly counted myself lucky that I haven't had any major work that needed to be done to the Jimmy. But i'm beginning to have this foreboding feeling that this is only the beginning. I've developed a supersensitivity to any strange noises that I hear as I am enroute. And those strange noises are popping up at every increasing intervals.

To my loyal but aging vehicle, this haiku is for you:

Hang in there Jimmy.
I may need another eight years,
of service from you.