I'll never sit here again

After nearly a full month of online advertising plus a week of newspaper classified advertising (all for one price), my 16-year-old Honda del Sol was sold today. Considering I received 95 percent of the somewhat aggressive asking price, I should be overjoyed. But as the skies cleared this afternoon after two days of steady rain, I felt myself missing that little car that had given me the most fun I ever had on four wheels. I was ready to take the top off and let the remnants of my hair whip in the breeze. I was ready to stomp the accelerator as I shifted to second and feel the four-cylinder engine oomph the lightweight two-seater up to speed. I was ready to take a corner using 100 degrees of arc instead of 90 and let the rear end glide into place. I wanted to feel all those things, and more, again, but I wouldn't and couldn't.

I sold the car to a young man who was probably in preschool when the car was built. He was young enough to enjoy it and to put up with its shortcomings — a chronically leaky trunk and an air conditioner that labored to keep up with the heat generated by the black sheet metal and black interior. And he won't mind that newer cars have nicer appointments, such as keyless entry, cup holders and ambient lighting. If he takes care of the car, it should give him several more years of driving fun.

Each day I drive my "less old" car (it's not "new") I bought six weeks ago, I like it better. It doesn't do the same things the del Sol did, but it does other things the del Sol never would. After shopping for a car of my dreams, one that would combine the del Sol's fun with a larger vehicle's security and more luxurious appointments, I concluded that such a car didn't exist, at least not in my price range. So I settled on a 2003 Honda Accord coupe with a six-speed transmission and 120,000 miles on the odometer. The six-speed lacks some of the "fun" element of the older car's five-speed, but it is fun to shift and has amazingly economical higher gears. A nice stereo, keyless entry, leather seating, an aesthetic body shape, more than 100 extra horsepower than what I was accustomed to — those are all things I could get used to. And while no car feels very safe to me in interstate highway traffic, the Accord is far heavier and less likely to be whipped about by passing trucks. The wind and road noise that I tolerated in the small car are almost entirely missing in the newer car.

Before I sold the del Sol, I received inquiries from as far away as Georgia and New York. People who are familiar with these cars love them, despite all their shortcomings. Fourteen years ago, when I debated and worried over whether I should plunk down more than I had planned to spend on a two-year-old pop-top two-seater, my wife persuaded me by saying, "If you don't buy it now, next time [you trade cars], you'll be too old." As usual, she was right. I got 14 years of fun (and a few headaches) while I was still young enough to enjoy it.