We’ve all passed one of those cars. You know, a car that’s making some ungodly noise that sounds like the harbinger of its imminent demise. I’ve always wondered when I cross such a vehicle why a piece of junk like that is even still on the road. Until…

For nearly a decade I have had a faithful auto companion. The Mazda Protégé Jason and I bought shortly after we got married now has over 180,000 miles on it and yet it still works well. It has required very few repairs over the years, which is quite impressive given the minuscule amount of money we paid for it and its current mileage. Unfortunately, that vehicle, which once made me proud, had become a bit of an embarrassment as of late.

I am not a car person; cars definitely don’t represent a status symbol to me. They aren’t a good investment so I’m of the opinion that spending a lot on one is a bit of a waste. As long as mine are comfortable and reliable I don’t care how old or stylish they are. Frankly, I’d rather spend my money on buckets of shoes and trips to Hawaii than a car payment. So, although I am not prone to vehicular snobbery, I must admit that I haven’t particularly enjoyed driving my Mazda the last year or so; in fact it’s made me hang my head in shame on many occasions.

Two or three years ago our Protégé started making a high-pitched squealing sound. It didn’t do it all the time, just now and then. Cold, hot, or wet weather seemed to aggravate it. We asked several mechanics about this issue but none of them could find anything wrong or had any ideas what the problem might be. As time went on the squealing became much more frequent and obnoxious, yet we still had no insights as to the cause.

Recently the shrieking had become so annoying and constant that Jas and I were starting to seriously consider buying a new car. After all, with the cause still a mystery we didn’t know if the vehicle was going to spontaneously combust at some point. Plus, I was getting pretty wary of driving the squeal mobile around.

Waking up all your neighbors with an ungodly screeching sound as you pull out of your driveway really adds to the awesomeness of any weekday morning. Yup, there’s no better way to turn your morning commute into a joyful affair than giving everyone within a mile radius the impression that horrible shrieking aliens have taken over the planet.

We thought we would give fixing our Protégé one more try before giving up. We kept note of what set off the racket and went into a mechanic with our full account. Unlike everyone else we had taken the car to, this guy thought he knew what might be the problem: belts that have stretched. Apparently it’s common for engine belts to stretch and become loose over time, which can cause them to slip and screech. He tightened the Protégé’s belts and tadah, no more noises. So all that time all she needed was a $30 belt tightening to be as good as new. Unbelievable! If there weren’t so many idiot mechanics out there I could have saved myself a lot of ridicule and hearing loss.

Jason is the best husband ever! I know many of you women think that your husband is in fact the proud owner of that title, and admittedly my opinion on this subject is quite skewed, but I can’t imagine a better husband than Jason. Even if you don’t agree that Jason is the best, you can’t deny that he is pretty fabulous.

Due to my foot surgery, these last couple of months poor Jason has been forced to be my nurse and maid. He has taken on these roles rather happily for the most part, except for the occasional complaint about how much he really hates cooking.

The first few days after my surgery he rarely left my side. Although his behavior concerning me sometimes bordered on paranoia, his anxiety over my wellbeing was very sweet.

In the weeks that followed I was on crutches and practically useless. Jason made the meals, kept the house clean, did the laundry and grocery shopping, and ran countless errands for me. However, not only did he do all those household tasks, he also carried me in and out of the tub and shower, and helped me wash my hair and change my clothes…like I said, I was pretty useless. I don’t know what I would have done without that boy’s help. I guess I would have been really dirty and hungry by now.

Although I have thanked him many times for all that he has done recently, no amount of thanks seems adequate. So I decided that publicly embarrassing him with this post should help even the score.

Thanks Bubba! Thanks for reading Alice in Wonderland to me until 5:30 AM in a futile attempt to help me sleep. Thanks for waking up to make me snacks in the middle of the night so I could take my pain pills. Thanks for the endless servings of ramen noodles you made me and the rides up the canyon at 2:30 in the morning to quell my claustrophobia. You truly are the best husband ever, even if I’m the only one who knows!

Jason claimed that he would write a post about his new car. But since he hasn’t done it yet and probably never will judging from the frequency of his posts, here’s the skinny on it.

We needed a new car for two reasons. One, Jason’s once red ’96 Mitsubishi Mirage is now pink and air-condition-less.

Secondly, I won’t be able to drive a manual for three months due to my recent surgery.

Both cars we owned were manuals so we decided that it was probably time to buy Jason a new car.

After shopping around we finally bought a ’04 Nissan Maxima. Though this car is a little older than we planned on buying, it was too plush to pass up. It has a leather interior, seat warmers, steering wheel warmer, dual moonroofs, Bose stereo system, six-CD changer, and it handles beautifully. I have never been much of a car person but, as one of my friends pointed out, feeling the power of that car makes me giggle like a little girl. I admit, I like it, I like it a lot. All these luxuries may be old news to those of you that are avid car freaks but Jason and I have always been happy with any car as long as it was reliable and comfortable. As a result, we have never put much money into our cars and the sports sedan thing is new to us.

And yes, this will be JASON’S car. I won’t use my girliness to trump his turn at having a new car. (I hate when wives always take the nicest car and leave their husbands the rust covered piece o’ shiz that barely runs.) I won’t complain though that I get to drive our new purchase for the next few months while my tendon heals.