It's time to sell the old girl
I have driven my 1979 Cadillac Coupe deVille daily since 1995. The car, now 33 years old, is showing signs of its age.
It was called "A personal luxury car" when it was issued in 1979.
That was the year grandma and Papa bought it. They put just 40,000 miles on it in their lifetime. My wife's mom bought it from their estate. She drove it to 70,000 miles and then sold it to us. It still ran like a new car. Smooth and powerful and luxurious in its appointments; plush, butter-yellow leather seats, everything electric and very roomy inside.
Now that I am thinking about selling the old girl, I find there are some parallels between its history and my own.
When that great car came off the assembly line, it was in perfect condition. It was tight and strong and the big motor hummed. It could climb long hills and barely breathed. It was fast when it needed to be and could cruise forever. Everything worked. When I was 18 (the same age the car was when I bought it) I was in great condition, strong and light on my feet and brimming with energy