My car is washed. I’m embarrassed to admit how long it has been since it was cleaned. The dirt was noticeable and the car’s color made it worse. In 2001, I traded in a 15-month old Jeep Wrangler for a 2-door car before I drove from California to eventually Florida.
The dealership asked me if I’d ever washed the Jeep. I told them the paint under the patina of dust had never been assaulted by cleaners and ever fiber of the interior carpeting had never been stressed by a vacuum. My Kia was in much the same condition this morning.
It’s a 2006. The odometer read 68,192 when I pulled into the driveway a few minutes ago. Other than the ding you can see under the headlight, it looks like new on the outside. Well, not new. It’s obviously an older car.
The interior is warm from being driven and from the sun. The driver’s seat leather is cracked and the floor mats do not look new. The passenger seat is in better shape. I doubt the back seat have had more than a couple hours of human passenger time in the past 18 years. Fremont’s been back there about the same amount of time.
The air conditioning doesn’t work. It was only 61F when I was out so I kept the windows up. The radio still sounds great. My wife’s uncle was a musician. If there was an upgrade package for the stereo system he’d have bought it.
I’d intended to hook up a hose to the nearest outlet and wash it myself. Well, that didn’t happen. I paid $15 for a basic wash and clearcoat, whatever that is, upgrade.
The guy across the street to the right (I live on a corner) washes his Corvette, minivan, and golf cart once a week. That’s more than 50 hours a year. I figure I saved a day of my life not washing mine since the last time.
I feel better about the car and its caring now though, nonetheless. The golf tee that was in the car when we got it is still there. The Premium AAA membership card was tossed this morning. I’m not sure why I kept the golf tee.
A Different Way 
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