L'Morte d'Jeep

Today was a good day until 1:30 or so. I was taking care of all the little personal to-dos that needed to be done before the house closing on Friday. Last item on the list: Get the brakes on the jeep fixed.

A little background: My old 1979 jeep that I've had for 7 years in hopes of slowly improving it to something other than a rust-bucket has been in storage since I moved to Charlotte. I dusted it off in December in order to get it inspected and it passed, after I got a muffler replaced. No other problems. A month later, I started it just to keep the battery alive, and I noticed the brake pedal went straight to the floor with no resistance. This usually indicates the master cylinder is dead and needs replacing ($35 + labor). So I called Pep Boys who has a great deal on towing where you get a rebate if you get repairs done there.

So I have the jeep towed to Pep Boys, and they call me at 1:30 with good news and bad news. Good news: The master cylinder is the problem. Bad News: They can't get it on the lift.

"Why can't you get it on the lift?"
"Because the frame has rusted through and if I lift it, it will break in two."

That was it. The jeep was dead. Getting a new frame and getting it installed would cost $3000. The jeep isn't worth 1/3 of that, and I don't have the money to invest in it since I'm buying a new house, furniture, and a new car for Bernie this month. I'm having it towed to the junkyard tomorrow.

One of the many things I was looking forward to this spring was driving my jeep again. Now I'll never be able to. I loved this thing enough to haul it down to Charlotte on a trailer when I moved from Raleigh and to store it indoors for 16 months, and now all that effort is wasted. My mother mentioned that there are only two items of my former life before moving and marriage left: The jeep and my cat. Now there's only one.

I'm pissed off, depressed, and sulky. This was an unkind cut, and even though it isn't truly important to my life and plans, it hurts.