I've never had an unnatural affection for my car. I love road trips and appreciate safely getting from Point A to Point B.
I'm not going to begrudge the industry that makes millions selling the difference between one extra feature and another, it's just not for me. I'm at the place in my life where I like my cars like my men... dependable.
After years of careful corporate cars, I bought my Honda CRV in May with the intent and purpose to flip the odometer at least once. After years of no bumperstickers or anything else that would make my vanilla vehicles stand out, this one is bright blue with a bold Buffalo Bills tire cover on the back and a New Jersey Springsteen tour plate in front. I installed satellite radio and have made five trips up the East Coast in the past seven months.
I appreciate the car's consistent conveyance thus far and have fed and watered it appropriately every 3,000 miles. My choice has been to have everything checked, refilled, rebalanced and replaced at a local service station that also includes a full car wash.
Apparently, that choice is not mine.
Two things happened last week in an ice storm in West Virginia. My windshield washers froze solid and the odometer hit 20,000.
The outdoor temperature was 20, the full fluid well had just been capped before I left with a fluid rated for -20 degrees. Slushing and spraying semi's did not have the inclination to swing wide just because I had no wiper fluid. It was like driving through a translucent bathroom window privacy pane. The appearance of the maintenance light on the dash was the least of my concerns.
I arrived at the Honda dealer in Buffalo to discover two other cars of the same make and model with the same line freeze problem.
"It's a design flaw," the mechanic said with a shrug. "You've got these thin lines right here where the wind blows in under the hood when you're driving making cold conditions colder."
His solution... an hour in the garage to thaw and wiper fluid rated for -60 degrees (affectionately referred to in Buffalo as "The Purple Stuff.")
The Purple Stuff froze too.
Back in Georgia, I opened my email after 10 days of neglect. There was a message from my car dealer with the subject line "Your Honda." I expected an answer to the frozen fluid problem.
I got a reminder that my car had passed 20,000 miiles, needed 20,000 service and they'd even attached a 20,000 mile service discount coupon.
"Our records show..." it said and finally MY light went on. That orange idiot maintenance light was for a 20,000 mile check up and my car has a chip to tell them when I hit that mark. I checked the date of the email and my odious IRS Mileage Log. Sure enough, the email was sent the day after I hit 20,000.
The emailed list of the very important 20,000 mile procedures was identical to everything I had done (at the garage with the carwash)at 19,300 miles before I left.
I called the dealer to find out when I could stop by to have the light in my dash turned off and got dire warnings of what could happen if I ignored this important 20,000 milestone. The guy reminded me of the encyclopedia salesman from my daughter's youth who was excessively concerned about the long term effects of my cheapness and ignorance in denying this brilliant child her sole opportunity for knowlege.
I've got a computer chip in my car that betrays me by reporting back to headquarters and displays my weakness as an owner with an orange light on the dash whenever the car is running.
No matter how many big brother reminders I get, I'm not going to pay for service I don't need... unless I can get them to remove the chip.