Meet Mary Todd

Mary Todd, pictured above, is my first car. She is a 2000 Lincoln LS (get it? Mary Todd Lincoln?), eight years shy of twice as old as I am, and her age shows.

Mary only takes 91 gas, but you can't get 91 anywhere, so I have to get 93. Once, it was $4.99/gallon. I drive my dad's car as much as possible and turn my car off as soon as I can.

One day, my sister and I decided to get McDonald's. I rolled the window down to order and it did not roll back up. It is currently held up with long pieces of packing tape that go from the outside over the top of the door to the inside. Every few days, they begin to give and the window cracks open and I have to spend ten minutes rolling my window back up. This is why I have a roll of packing tape in my car at all times. When it rains hard, I put an enormous black trash bag over the door to make sure the water doesn't get it.

Last winter was extremely cold. How do I know? Because the heat in my car does not work. Every time I had to drive to work or school, I bundled up with a coat and a scarf and braced myself for sub-freezing twenty-minute drives. From November through March, I would not drive without gloves. I sent it to the mechanic when I was sure I would finally freeze to death, and they gave it back two days later. I have no idea what's wrong with your car, he said, shrugging and shaking his head. I've cleaned and checked everything. It only gets to maybe sixty degrees after a good twenty or thirty minutes. I took it home and got a better coat.

One day, I went to get gas and called my dad, nearly crying. It's not just the placebo effect, I told him. Every time someone else is here, I can get my gas tank open. Every time I'm alone, I can't get it open. I did not have enough gas to get home and ended up going into the gas station and asking the cashier to help me. Sure enough, the spring is broken, so the tank will unlock but not spring open. I cannot get gas on my own - I have to have someone push the button to release the latch while I pry it open.

On one of my last days of school that had already strained me emotionally, I went out to my car and was shoving my things in the backseat when my sister turned around to look at me. Is your sunroof open? It wasn't, I could see that from the outside, but it had just rained and the outside of the car was wet. Are you sure? she asked me. It's a little... soggy in here. I opened the driver's door and, right on cue, a stream of water dripped from the lights above the center console into my cupholders. There was half an inch of rainwater in one cupholder and drops all over my seat and the gear shift. As I drove home, whenever I took a sharp turn, the water that was pooled somewhere above us would slosh and another stream would rain down, usually getting all over my sister. My dad and I later found that the seal on the sunroof was broken, and water was pooling in the empty space beneath the roof and above the ceiling. For a while, the plastic underneath the steering wheel was chipping. A piece fell off. One day, I went to work and closed the door hard, annoyed that another piece had fallen off. I froze, mortified as the door slammed. Slowly, I opened it again. There were four pieces of plastic on the ground, shards of my car lying there defeated. The rest of it was hanging limply, threatening to join. On my break, I clocked out and bought a small tube of E6000 superglue. I spent my break sitting on the cement of the parking lot, supergluing my car back together. I went back in, victorious. My coworkers looked at me like I had two heads when I triumphantly told them what I'd done. Why don't you just get a new car?

I could go on and on. The cupholders in the front seat are ridiculously tiny, there's a chip in my windshield, the window washer fluid sprays more on the hood than on the windshield, the window lock doesn't work, the shocks are worn, the seatbelt doesn't retract properly, the leather seats are splitting, the metal on the passenger's side door handle has all peeled off and somehow makes a sound like a mouse when I go over bumps.

A lot of people ask me the same question my coworkers did after I superglued my car together. Why don't you just get a new car?

And that, friends, is what this post is about. Not my car. Not Mary Todd Lincoln. Not even my old coworkers. This post is about why getting a new car is not on my to-do list.

Everyone is constantly telling you to get new things these days. Commercials are showing comparisons between the soap you have and the soap they make. Yes, you know their soap isn't actually that good, but all of the rich people have it, and if it's actually easier, why are you wasting so much time scrubbing just to save two dollars a bottle? You know those paper towels aren't actually that absorbent, but what if they are? Looking over your shoulder, your friend comments, wait, your phone doesn't do RCS? The internet people at Costco stop you to tell you why you've been with the wrong company all along, and then the other internet people at Kroger debunk every claim the Costco ones made. Yes, competitive companies are good and drive each other to make better products and have lower prices. But as the buyer, it's exhausting to constantly have new products shoved in your face. It leaves you wondering, wait, why don't I have that? Am I really doing it wrong? Should I actually get a new car?!

Sometime circa Covid, my dad taught us a saying that was coined in the Great Depression. It goes, "Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without." Seriously, he would come to put us to bed and prompt us, "Use it up?" until we knew it by heart. I try my best to live with it in mind now. Because, you know what? You don't need new things. If you have what you need, use it up. Wear it out. Make it do. And if you can't, consider if you really need it or if you can do without. If it's used up and worn out, you've made do as long as you can, and you really can't do without it, then yes, it's time to get a new one. Otherwise? Make the decision yourself. Will a new one genuinely improve your life? Or are you happy with what you have? Would you rather spend that $2 on chocolate than fancy soap? Does your phone actually need RCS?

You know what Mary Todd does? A lot. She is a V8 with a Jaguar engine. The look on a teenage boy's face when he asks me how fast the car goes is priceless. (I have no idea how fast it goes. I'm a law abiding citizen. But I can tell you the speedometer goes up to 160.) It's got heated seats, which keep me thawed in the winter. It's got a little screen where it will tell me what needs attention and what doesn't. It has a big trunk and good gas milage. Both of the front seats move back and forth and up and down electrically. I have a gadget that plugs into the cigarette lighter and broadcasts its own little radio station, allowing me to play whatever songs I want from my phone, and the sound is great. The sunroof opens, and on warm days it is beautiful. It seats five and has a pull-to-open cupholder in the back middle seat. The backseat is full of blankets and stuffed animals. I have no monthly car payment - it is mine, all mine, I own every inch of it and my name is the only name on the title. The A/C is amazing and lightning fast, just like the car. It has cruise control. It's cute, it's fun, it's fast, it's mine, and it drives. That's what I need. I need it to drive.

So, instead of saving for a car that has a hundred knick-knacks, I spend my money on the things that matter more to me. The car gets me from A to B, and that's enough for me. Instead, I buy beads and yarn and books and vinyl. I take my friends shopping and buy stuff for them and take my sister out to Starbucks. I save for college and pay my insurance and phone bill and subscription fees.

All this to say - don't give in to what the world is telling you. You don't need the fanciest phone, the nicest car, the coolest computer. If that's what you want, save and get it. But if there are other things that are more important to you, then use your money for those things. Your friends and family and talents are more important than fitting standards. Pick what you want to have. Pick what you want to use up, wear out, and make do. Pick what you can do without. Don't let other people make you feel like you're not good enough because of the things you own. Do what you love, use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without.