If My Body Was A Car

If my body was a car, this is the time I would be thinking about trading it in for a newer model. I've got bumps and dents and scratches in my finish and my paint job is getting a little dull, but that's not the worst of it.


My fenders are too wide to be considered stylish. They were once as sleek as a little MG; now they look more like an old Buick. My seat cushions have split open at the seams. My seats are sagging. Seat belts? I gave up all belts when Krispy Cremes opened a shop in my neighborhood...


Air bags? Forget it. The only bags I have these days are under my eyes. Not counting the saddlebags, of course. I have soooooo many miles on my odometer. Sure, I've been many places and seen many things, but when's the last time an appraiser factored life experiences against depreciation?


My headlights are out of focus and it's especially hard to see things up close. My traction is not as graceful as it once was.

I slip and slide and skid and bump into things even in the best of weather. My whitewalls are stained with varicose veins. It takes me hours to reach my maximum speed. My fuel rate burns inefficiently.


But here's the worst of it...almost every time I sneeze, cough or sputter...my radiator leaks!

--This essay was written by Linda S Amstutz in 2003, originally entitled "Trade In Wanted" and published by the Ozark Senior Living Newspaper in November 2003.