If anybody knows how to drive a car into the ground, it’s me. I was supposed to sell my car at the beginning of the summer-last summer, 2010. In any event, I was supposed to really, REALLY sell my car at the start of THIS summer, but that didn’t exactly work out.

I was only going to ask $500 for a 1997 Subaru with 220,000 miles on it.

The little car has become my constant companion.

The number of things wrong with the car are astronomical, but it keeps on running despite the severe maintenance neglection.

The driver’s side door squeaks so loudly, that a kid next to me at the grocery store parking lot asked his mommy if that was a “cat crying?”

The right front transaxle is so shot, that people crossing the crosswalks hear it going “click, click, click” (metal on metal), and run for the sidewalk, thinking that they are about to be run over by a piece of farm machinery.

Speaking of metal on metal, the guy at Big Os tire store told me back in May that my brakes were already shot, and needed to be replaced. By my calculations, I’ve descended over 250,000 feet in elevation from my house to work since his admonition. That number just happens to coincide with the milage on my little green beast.It’s also like driving to the bottom of the Grand Canyon 5,000 times for those of you tourists who like to drive to the bottom of the Grand Canyon.

There are other little annoyances, like the carpet wearing through to the floorboard, cracked windshield, buttons missing on the electric window master control, and drink holder that only extends with a crowbar.

But all in all, I like the dependable little car. I’ll probably keep it for a few months and sell it next summer.