Out With The Old, In With The Not So Old

With the selling of Castle Erickson, the resulting temporary change in my morning commute from "you've got to be kidding me" to "are you out of your ever loving mind?" while driving a 14 year old car with 356,000 miles on it seemed to be tempting fate. So, I figured, after driving the same car for 14 years, I was long overdue to get a new set of wheels. Well, a newer set of wheels at any rate since I'm generally opposed to paying new car prices just so I can enjoy the financial suck of depreciation.

Besides, after driving a 14 year old car with 356,000 miles on it, a 5 year old car with 50,000 something miles on it is in positively showroom mint condition.

So, the tale of the tape on the once proud but never named 14 year old Nissan Maxima is as follows:

Purchased Used in July 2000 with 16,000 miles on it
Started Keeping Records on it in April 2006
Lowest Price Paid for Regular Gas: $1.45/gallon (December 2008 in Duncanville, TX)
Highest Price Paid for Regular Gas: $3.94/gallon (June 2008 in Duncanville, TX)
Best Gas Mileage Recorded (full tank): 33.98 MPG
Worst Gas Mileage Recorded (full tank): 19.11 MPG
Average Recorded Gas Mileage (all records 2006 to 2014): 26.41 MPG

Sometime in 2005 or 2006 before I started keeping records, the starter was replaced. The serpentine belts were replaced once at 223,256  miles. The radiator was replaced at 245,708 miles. The CV axles were replaced at 263,373 miles. It ran out of gas one time in 14 years (with The Queen at the wheel after an impressive 453 miles on one tank of gas) at 304,873 miles. The power steering pump was replaced at 323,250 miles. The front struts were replaced at 335,352 miles. It's had at least three sets of plugs, two sets of ignition coils and three sets of tires that I can document dates and mileage for though there were others prior to that time for sure.

It's had it fair share of battle scars over the years.

That little beauty mark was there when I bought the car. To be fair, someone had made a game attempt at repainting it. 14 years of wind, rain, Texas, infrequent washings, etc. later and it's still the only rust spot on the car.

This little rash came around about mid 2003 when I was in a hurry to get to a job interview and didn't pay attention when backing out of my parking space in the parking garage. That concrete pillar next to the car was gentle in its reminder to get my head back in the game.

There are two little creases in the fender there roughly two feet apart thanks to my ladder. It was leaning up against the wall in my garage when a gust of wind blew in and toppled it over onto the car. Grrrr....

This is the most recent love tap from sometime in the last two or three years. It occurred late one evening as The Queen and I were arriving home at the same time. I was backing into the driveway to facilitate unloading the car. Unbeknownst to me, The Queen had double parked the Navigator more or less in the middle of the driveway. Since I had assumed her to be parked like a normal human being, I was focused on the driver's side mirror so I would not drive up into the flower bed that bordered the driveway. Suddenly....BAM!!! SONOFA....WHat the...Hey, why'd you park there? The Navigator suffered barely a smudge.

Oh well, they can't stay pretty forever.

Oh, and for those of you who doubt the mileage claim...

I put 350,000 miles of that on there, and it never let me down once when I really needed it. It flew under the radar more than once (it handled pretty well up to about 100...I can't vouch for handling beyond that) to get me home when The Queen needed me, and it even survived an early morning encounter with a (recently deceased) deer with no ill effects.

So, what earned the honor of replacing my trusty steed?

I'm glad you asked. Please allow me to introduce, the Blue Max.

No, not that one.

This one...

Blue Max is a 2009 Nissan Maxima SV with 56,000 or so miles on it. Leather seats, sunroof, premium sound system, CVT transmission, 3.5L V6, push button start, etc.

I looked at other cars. I looked at SUVs and trucks. My requirements (asides from wanting the car to be aesthetically pleasing to its new driver) were pretty simple: it had to be easy to get M&M in and out of her car seat (thus eliminating any 2 door vehicle from consideration), it had to be under $20,000 (bonus points for being under $15,000), and it could not get less than 20 MPG on the highway (thus eliminating most trucks from consideration).

Having rented a number of cars in the last few years that fell into this rather broad criteria, I at least had some experience upon which to base my decisions. That, and picking the brain of my cousin the mechanic. I hated the seats in the Ford Focus despite some of it's other redeeming qualities. The Queen had also decreed that it was too small (her exact words were: "It's a coffin on wheels."). The Ford Fusion was a contender; however, it suffered from the same fatal flaw as the Chevrolet Cruze. Everytime I got in both cars, the B pillar would hit me in the sacrum. No bueno.

I really, REALLY wanted another truck, but the reality of my commute and the prices of used trucks in Texas beat that idea into submission after brief forays through bargaining and denial.

So, that brought me back to the Maxima. It's not like I don't have a ton of experience with them. They met all of my simple criteria. Price wise, this one came in just under $16,000. The thing that sealed the deal was that it is my favorite color.

Now, I just hope it holds up half as well as its predecessor.

On This Episode of Cops...

..., do stupid things and win stupid prizes.

So, yesterday, I was on my way home from work minding my own business cruising along I-20 westbound between I-45 and I-35 in south Dallas. I was in the second lane from the right with the cruise control set at the speed limit plus or minus a skosh. Traffic was surprisingly light for the middle of rush hour with the nearest vehicle being a pickup in the far right lane about five car lengths back. Then, I heard the telltale sound of a crotch rocket in high revs. I was expecting him to come up on my left as those lanes were clear; however, he blows by at about 80 miles an hour on the right shoulder.

I thought to myself, "Self, that's odd."

I couldn't tell what make or model bike it was. It was all white with at least a 750cc engine (at a minimum based on the size and sound). The brain child in the saddle was wearing white shorts, dark athletic shoes, a t-shirt, backpack and matte black full face shield helmet with the goofy Mohawk ridge along the top.

The reason these details caught my attention was that the rider had gotten off the throttle as he passed me and was looking back over his shoulder in my direction making me think he was giving me the stink eye for some reason. I was contemplating what I might have done to offend him when things began to become clearer.

As we passed a highway on ramp, a Dallas County Sheriff's Deputy cruiser came charging onto the highway with lights flashing making a beeline for Mr. Motorcycle.

My first reaction was, "Awesome!! Nail his butt." Because, really, how many times has some idiot on a crotch rocket blown passed you at warp nine when there was no popo anywhere to be seen?

Then, the second DCSO cruiser flew passed on my left lights a blazin'. That was the moment that you just KNEW it was on like Donkey Kong. Just after I saw the second cruiser, I looked back to the scene ahead just in time to see Mr. Organ Donor depart from the I-35E southbound exit ramp for the supposedly greener pastures of the grassy median between shoulder and frontage road.

Big mistake. HUGE!.

The first cruiser was hot on Mr. Mensa's tail like white on rice. That's when the dust really started flying. I didn't have a clear view, but I am pretty sure that Mr. Offroad on Slick Tires gave the crotch rocket a little too much go juice resulting, predictably, in the travels of bike and rider becoming separated in what hopefully an epic Wile E. Coyote moment. I say this because there was some tumbling visible through the cloud of dirt and grass flying in the air, and when I finally passed by a few seconds later the bike was in several more pieces than one would expect for a gentle laying down amongst the hillside meadow.

Anyfelon, by this time Mr. Carl Lewis Wannabe was trying to beat the Olympic sprint record in all events at the same time while Deputy #1 had already bailed out of his cruiser and was closing ground fast like there was donuts and bacon in the rabbit's backpack.

Unfortunately, I did not get to see the end of the foot race as I was still driving along my merry way and my view was soon blocked by the traffic on the exit ramp, the ramp itself and the whole scene disappearing in the rear view. My money is on the deputy.

Total elapsed time from "what was that?" to out of sight, out of mind was less than a minute...maybe 30 seconds.