The time has come for me to replace the Almighty Honda. This is not something I want to do. I dread all aspects of it. Even as I write this, I’m doing so in darkness and out of earshot of my car (ya know, just in case it overhears). I think it would be easier to replace The Wife than replace the car, but then again I’ve had the car longer than The Wife (it has seniority). Despite my reservations, the truth is I’m driving a car that’s twice as old as my students and it’s just time for a change.

Reasons for change? Well, did I mention I’m driving a car twice as old as my students? This would be fine if my students were younger than five or older than 25. Anything else in-between means I’m driving an old car. Not a classic. Just old. Kind of like that lame age for Grownups between 35 and 55 when you’re expected to behave responsibly (reckless fun by youngsters is considered “youthful indiscretion;” reckless fun by seniors is “too old to know any better”).

I’ve also noticed I’ve been getting pulled over more often. Not for moving violations–just “checking . . . . .