There are certain universals in the lives of most Americans and buying cars is sure one of them. It doesn’t matter if you’re buying a low-price used beater or a brand new Mercedes, we all go through it. And it just happened to me again.

My very first car was a 1959 Ford Fairlane. It was pretty sharp – big engine, 2 door, bright white. I was so excited I actually slept in it the first night. Since then I’ve had quite a few vehicles – more than some, fewer than a lot of you – and I remember them all very distinctly. It might be just a “guy thing” but cars really stand out in my memories.

The car I had until recently was a 2000 Ford Explorer Sport. I’d had other Explorers and Blazers but I really liked this one. Black paint with a gray interior, it had a moon roof – the first vehicle I’d had with that option – and it was one of the neatest things I ever experienced. On cold, clear nights I’d open the roof and put the heat up a bit and it was just perfect for cruising. I had a powerful stereo and speakers (with a rear kicker box) installed and when cranked up, you definitely felt the music as well as heard it. I remember talking about needing a car while at a station function and how I was considering something with four doors because it’s so much easier to get in and out, etc. One of the promotion staff – a woman, of course – made it known that four doors were for old people so of course I went out and bought the 2 door sport version. That became a problem after getting married again and hauling around Adam and occasionally his buddies.

The Explorer was just shy of 100,000 miles a few weeks ago when I noticed a noise. Noticing a noise is never a good thing and this time it was a bad thing. The shop I go to is both a repair shop and a car lot and I trust the folks there. It’s locally owned and I bought my wife’s car there a few years back and have never regretted it. I took the Explorer in and a day later I got the news: the Explorer was pretty much done. Cracked manifolds (that was the sound), multiple systems leaks, bad shocks (that alone would be about $600) – the total cost to bring the Explorer up to decent shape where I might get another 50,000 miles out of it? About $5,000. I was (and still am) in shock – literally. Light-headed, shaky.

Then reality set in; do I spend $5,000 in the hopes I’ll get another year or two out of the Explorer or do I go for a new set of wheels? The logical and responsible thing seemed to be – buy a new car. I quickly found one I liked – a Mazda CX-7 and put the financing together. I can’t really afford it but I can’t afford to not do it. I’m also feeling a bit guilty for not buying American. The vast majority of my cars have been Fords and Chevies with a Jeep thrown in. I’ve definitely sent a lot of my hard-earned money to Detroit and feel I’ve paid my dues but I really like this CX-7. Besides, we all know that most Japanese cars have an excellent reputation for reliability and I don’t want to go through this again, where a car pretty much falls apart from underneath me.

I went back to the car lot today for a last check of the Explorer, making sure all my stuff was cleaned out. This might be another guy thing, but when I saw the Explorer, sitting way off to the side, dirty and getting rained on, I was really hit by a deep sadness. I thought of all the adventures, drama and good times the Explorer had seen me through. Right up until the very end, the day that noise began, it was as reliable as sunrise. Always started, never stranding me once. I did basic maintenance, kept it clean and fueled and it took me wherever I pointed it. Now it was filthy inside, muddy outside and looked a bit saggy. And very, very much alone.

I know it’s weird but I’ve always thought there was some kind of metaphysical thing between us and our machines. I’ve owned cars that weren’t worth scrapping and cars that were really nice and they all seemed to work better when they were kept clean and cared for. It could be my imagination but it’s as if the Explorer knew its days were pretty much done. The change from the car I drove into that place and the same car I was now looking at was dramatic.

I took some photos for – I’m not sure why, really. It’s not like anyone really wants to see photos of a 2000 Ford Explorer sitting in a muddy parking lot. And I won’t be spending a great deal of time mooning over the photos – I’m pretty busy these days. But I am definitely saddened. It’s not a person, not even a pet. But I spent a lot of time inside that thing and I absolutely miss it. Every car I’ve left behind has made me sad as I drove away; it’s kind of like abandoning a good friend because they’re now old and infirm. And soon the sadness will pass, swept up in the demands of the day and, to be honest, enjoying the new ride. It’s a fun car.

But I’ll file away the Explorer in the same spot as other sweet memories exist and hope that the car that now sits in the driveway can fill its considerable tires.