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While my old ride wasn't as cool as your Z car (my aunt had one, and I thought it was AWESOME), I regret selling it. It was a 1989 240 Volvo--typical boxy Olaf Volvo, only a 4-cylinder, 105hp, but insane amounts of torque in 1st and 2nd gears. I could beat anyone across an intersection from a dead stop, but hills required a good running start. Because of its low-end power, I named the car Zippy. My parents were the original owners, and they passed it on to me.
The car I currently drive I will drive until it dies (a '94 Volvo 940 wagon). She is named Baby--as in she's my baby, because Baby is the car I learned to drive in, the car I took to prom, etc. When I almost wrecked her last winter attempting the pass in the snow (mistake), I cried. I don't want to lose this car--though since gas prices are going up, we'll be buying another car to keep Baby company this fall. I'm looking forward to hitting 200,000 miles in her--right now she has 186,000. She looks a little gnarly--my mom hit a stop sign and left a good-sized dent in her hood, and she also has a small dent from where my high school crush tried to slide across her hood on his ass and didn't make it. Plus, the leather seats in the front have extensive sun damage and need seat covers, and her air conditioner doesn't work. But she keeps rolling along.
You're not at all alone in being sentimentally attached to your vehicle. I love Baby so much, and I miss Zippy terribly. Take care of Bombfire, and may you have a long, happy, loving relationship with your Z car.
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If I am not better, at least I am different. --Jean-Jacques Rousseau
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