I have a history of getting way too attached to my cars. Back at the tail-end of the 1970s, my first car, a 1979 Honda CIVIC had fallen into so much disrepair that was getting a little embarrassed to be driving it around. I had it painted because its brown paint had oxidized under the steady California sun's UV rays. The car's synthetic seats too, had fallen apart. I had pulled T-shirts over the two front seats only looked um.. maybe 95% crappy.
![]() |
| 1979 Honda Civic Hatchback |
The night I sold the car I had a heart wrenching dream. I had an old hound dog which I hugged and wept over because I was being forced to give it up. Next morning I woke, called Honda and got my car back! Shortly thereafter I sold old ride to a nice Hispanic man who needed a car for his daughter. I gave him my auto maintenance log that listed all car services and its milage per gallon of gas. When he drove off with the car, I felt peace.
Skipping over the car that replaced my brown bomber, in 2004, my friends Jeannie & Ron went with me to bargain and purchase a new car. I got a Mojave Mist color (brown again!) Honda CR-V. That was 21 years ago. I remember being horrified that the car cost as much as I thought my first house would cost, being approximately $20,000. My brown CR-V ran by the name 'Atilla the Honda'. For years I commuted to the light rail in that car, as well as birded, including 2 trips to Yellowstone and a b'jillion wildlife refuges all over the western USA.
![]() |
| My 2004 Honda CR-V |
I donated Atilla to National Public Radio. It was picked up from where it sat in my drive way for 2 months while I worked up the courage to say 'goodbye old thing'. My next door neighbors commiserated with me, as they too had known and lost cars they loved. It was nice having the moral support.
![]() |
| Atilla was stripped of its Washington License Plate |
![]() |
| An honor guard Doe led the procession as my dear Atilla was driven off into the great unknown |
My new car is, no surprise, a Honda: a 2026 CR-V Hybrid in Ash Green. This one, as the Scots say, is sure to 'see me out'.




