This song is coming to mind as I type this…and the ringer of a chorus I cannot get out of my head… “And we were singing bye, bye Miss American Pie…”

My mind has always thought in terms of lyrics, and when I write, I’ve often recently been inspired by a tune…I did not hear this song when I started to write this, but somehow it crept up from the depths and exposed itself when Microsoft Word launched.

About a month ago, I pulled off the road in my little Benz because some –excuse my French- A-Hole was on my butt, and I wasn’t feeling the mood to drive so incredibly fast up our curvy canyon roads. Normally I cherish the challenge of a douchebag, down shift and show him what a 4 cylinder supercharged little Benz can do to his ole beefed up truck…but today I was up for smelling the roses.

Unfortunately, because I was ticked off, I whipped the car off the road quickly, hoping to scare him or prove a point. I ended up slamming into a deep water filled pothole at about 45 miles per hour. I hear some crappy noises coming from the front end, and figured I’d done some serious damage to the little low-to-the-ground Kompressor, but quick inspection told me that whatever I’d done was on the inside.

Which meant for me, as it does for most women, you just turn up the radio and keep on truckin’. I opted to do that for a couple weeks. Till I started hearing this loud thump-bump-bump that not even the radio would cover up. I finally told my husband something was seriously wrong, and he made me an appointment down at the place where we get my tires.

I arrived and told the tire and wheel joint that I needed my tires balanced. Then I took a walk down the street to the bagel shop. About 15 minutes later they called and said, actually, your right front rim is bent to all hell, you shouldn’t be driving this car.

To which I called my husband, and told him about how I was about to die any moment and needed new wheels. He told me to put the tire guy on the phone…I obliged. About 35 seconds later, he told me to drive home carefully, and then he’d take my car for a few days.

We ended up calling the insurance company and I ended up paying the deductible to have it repaired…that combined with some other “inside” front end damage, and an outstanding service, ended up making the bill on the Benzie $1800. OUCH.

I absolutely LOVE my car, no car payment, and with 110k miles on it, it’s still going…but I did a little math on the out-of-warranty work I’ve had done over the last year, and the monthly bill came to about $291.

The car is a legend…the Happiness Is Being Me license plate frame and “adopt a greyhound” sticker zips around town like it’s the sexiest little thing that ever existed. It screams “me” in every way. I absolutely adore the car, and it’s gotten me from San Diego to NorCal more times than I can count, many of those trips including music blaring way too loud, driving way too fast, and packed to the brim with a cat and a dog, and a lifetime full of clothes.

I started to get sad. The baby is expected to arrive in only 8 short weeks…And to add to all of this, Benzie doesn’t like the snow. Not one bit. She prefers the sand. Unfortunately, it snows where I live now. A lot. Which means, she gets parked, and sits cold, dreaming of her San Diego winters.

In light of all of this, I had to begin the search for the Mommy Mobile. Hubby had been saying he wanted the most amount of iron around me we could logically purchase. Originally he wanted me to get a Dump Truck, but after some eye-rolling and “no seriously’s” he started rattling off things like Tahoe, Yukon, Sequoia and PILOT.

My eyes glazed over as I envisioned 3 kids, too much crap (eh em, gear), dressing up to go to the grocery store, and being “that person” the one who can’t park her too large SUV anywhere she goes, and makes a 40-point turn to get into any spot within a ¼ mile of the door. This is also the woman who hogs two spaces and door dings Benzie because she can’t see the ground as she’s leaping out. 

This is the woman, that I zippingly passed, slipping into the parking spot like massage oil on your shoulders, grabbed my Coach bag, hopped out and jaunted for the store in my still shapely figure, and sorta-kinda chuckled at, as she’s screaming at her children to “sit down, stay put, grab her purse, don’t go over there…”

I shuttered. I could become her! And then I started begging, “Please don’t make me drive one of those things, please, not just yet…maybe when he’s 5 years old and has friends or something…but not yet.”

We started the process of finding the new car, and at every lot, I’d looking longingly over at Benzie, who seemed just plain sad. No other vehicle compared to her. Her spunk, her spirit, her sexiness, her features…I’m talking xenon headlights, 6 speaker Bose surround, black leather, rain sensing windshield wipers, dual temperature gauges, 6-speeds, great gas mileage, supercharged motor.

I began a spreadsheet to evaluate all potential car options…one kept kinda catching my attention…A little un-expecting compact SUV. I read a review on Edmunds that said, “younger highly educated buyers with savvy on performance and a need for enhanced features purchase this vehicle.” Add the AWD capabilities and at that point I was pretty much sold.

I started looking at the lots, and still none of them really had the “wow” factor. I knew it was the best for the price, the most practical, etc., but I was waiting for something to call to me…I was procrastinating, I didn’t want to get rid of Benzie.

A few times I tried to shotgun the deal and just buy it. Most recently, was en route to our weekend getaway in Monterey…”Let’s buy the new car for the road trip.” I had suggested, which was met with the response, “Really? Who does that?”

My husband is pretty impulsive, we both are, but apparently not when it comes to our finances. So, my efforts to rip off the BandAid were thawarted.

Last week, I had to go to an AA meeting…thanks to my Substance Abuse Psychology class, and it happened to be just across from a dealership…the one with the “best” possible Mommy Mobile…and about the time I was leaving, it was POURING RAIN. I got a text from my Dad to “be safe on the way home, snow on the hill.” Which translates to, “call your husband for a ride so that you don’t harm my grandson in that sports car that belongs in San Diego and not up here in the mountains.”

I pulled in the lot…nothing tickled me. Nothing at all. And in true pregnancy fashion I felt it, the inevitable, unavoidable pee coming on. I had to go inside the dealership, there was no way around it. I was not ready to deal with the vultures, especially because I didn’t even like anything and there was nothing they could tell me about the vehicle I didn’t already know. But I had to do it.

Quickly I ran through the rain and into the dealership, and there…as if she had descended from the Heavens…light shining graciously on her gray metallic exterior… was Belle - my Baby-Beel.

Immediately the sharks landed on top of the chum, and I quickly announced, “I have to pee.” They darted off for the depths of the dealership and left me alone long enough to wipe. Once I stepped toe outside of the women’s restroom they appeared again.

Fortunately, I had done enough research that no sales pitch was going to harm me.

“You been looking at a lot of cars lately?” Sales Guy probes.

“So, I see here, this does not have the PZEV, which means, crappy gas mileage, but I see it’s an XT, so I’m guessing turbo engine. Assuming from the leather and scoop it’s a Touring model?” I demand.

“Uh, um…lemme…yes, it looks like…that’s correct.”

“Ok, so here’s the deal. I need you to honor what Roseville Automall offered me for the trade, this particular one is a little out of my price range, I was really hoping for the Premium XT, with added leather.”

“Have you considered Limited?”

“No. I hate the Navigation. I don’t need anyone telling me how to drive.”

“What did you say for your trade?”

“A lot, but I need the monthly payment where I need it. I won’t budge. Here’s the keys, if you want to grab the VIN number.”

In my head that scene from Role Models is playing…now remember, you can’t bullshit a bullshitter.

“Uh, um…okay…sure.” Sales Guy says dumbfounded.

“Oh, and I also want the Costco Invoice pricing.”

He just nodded as he scurred off to find the used car manager, probably thinking he should have skipped the pregnant woman and jumped on the punk kid looking at the sports car next to me.

I held my cool through the entire one hour process. I was very preoccupied with googling Costco Invoice pricing on my phone for that trim package, and KBB for my car, etc. At the very end he came back with the figures…they worked.  Internally I sighed a massive amount of relief. With the 1.9% financing, I was getting the exact car I wanted, for the exact price.

He wanted me to sign and close the deal, but at that point I was through the easy stuff, and onto the hard part…

I stood up and said, “Thanks for your time. I’ve got to go talk to my husband. He’s at work until 4:30 today.”

I snatched back my registration and headed for the door, but before I made it the GM stopped me…”Is there anything we can do to get you to move forward?”

“Unfortunately no. My husband needs to be involved. And he’s VERY stubborn. And he likes the PILOT a lot better.”

Then, once in my car, I began my own feeding frenzy…I texted and called, and pleaded and begged to his voicemail…This was it, she was the one…the one that could replace the legend of Benzie, the one that could make me smile…Oh and the one that could get me home in the snow.

I’m not sure what happened…I don’t know if it was the tone in my voice…or if it just “felt right” to him…or if he was tired of all the back and forth…or if after the long road trip in Benzie he decided she was ready to be retired…

But he was home by the time I got home…two hours early. All he said was, “you really love this one?”

“Yes, I love it so so much.” I said, shit eatin' grin on my face.

“Well then, let’s pull the Benz in the garage and clean-er out and go get your new car.”

I think American Pie comes to mind, because in all reality, that’s what it is…the end of an era…the end of Michaela and Benzie, living the free life, zipping up and down the Coast Highway, passing on a country road at 85mph on the double yellow- up hill while flipping off the 25mph driver.

It’s the end of the sports car, and the start of the next generation…the mommy mobile, the tiny feet kicking into the back of my seat, the crying that cranking the stereo won’t drown out, the dogs located in the “way” back. It’s Cheerios on my floor and having to play the stereo at so-so level with kid-friendly SpongeBob tunes.

It’s the third transition in the 40 week baby journey… the one where I say, “Bye Bye Miss American Pie drove my Benzie to the dealer and traded her in…”

With that, we welcome (fortunately for all of you who read the Dump Truck blog) Belle, the new Baby Beel, a 2011 Subaru Forester Touring, XT in grey metallic – leather interior, 10 speaker surround, back up camera, HID headlights, TURBO charged engine and AWD….I am thrilled to announce, I made it up the snow covered driveway and can’t say enough awesome things about my new ride. Benzie will be missed, may her legend live on…