The Blue Bomb

We learned a tough lesson two or three months after we got married. Having to grow up quick and make big decisions isn’t fun.

Husband and I got married in November, then moved halfway across the country two months later. We towed Husband’s car behind the moving truck and drove mine. We didn’t make it all the way with my car because the transmission went out. We ended up switching it to the tow dolly somewhere on the side of the road and driving Husband’s car the rest of the way. After we arrived at our new home, we parked my car at our apartment and drove Husband’s car everywhere we needed to go.

We were newly married, broke, and extremely far from home. So when Husband’s car needed some crazy work done on it, we scraped together the money and had it fixed. And then it broke again. With two old, broken cars and an empty bank account, there wasn’t much we could do.

By the grace of God, one of our Student Ministry workers owned a car dealership. We didn’t have great credit, but he took both of our junky cars in trade and helped us get a loan to buy the Blue Bomb, a used 1992 blue Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme. It was smooth, sleek, and had an air conditioner like you wouldn’t believe. It was a nice car.

We were scared to death. On paper, we couldn’t even pay our bills. There was no room in the budget for that $160 car payment. But God provided every month and we paid every bill on time. Even when the IRS came calling a few months later asking for $1500, which might as well have been a million, we still were able to pay our bills. It’s a time of God’s provision we will never forget. Don’t get me wrong, God has always provided for us. But that was the first time we had only Him and each other to depend on. Those days were hard, but I wouldn’t trade them for the world.

The Blue Bomb has served us well the last eleven years. It’s been our only car several times. And we’ve done everything we could to hold it together. But now we are faced with saying goodbye.

The transmission started getting hinky a few months ago. And now the Blue Bomb won’t go in reverse at all. In a parking lot, Husband has to park where he can pull out. But parking in the garage is interesting. When he’s ready to leave, he has to start up the Blue Bomb, wiggle it into neutral, then I push him out of the garage. Thankfully, we live on a hill.

I’m sure me pushing Husband in his car out of the garage at 7:45 in the morning is quite a sight. Maybe we could sell tickets.

I called our transmission place to get a quote. I say “our” place like I’m familiar with it. Maybe because our family has used them quite a few times. We drive old cars, what can I say? Anyway, the guy told me it would cost more to fix the transmission than the car was worth. I kind of figured that would be the answer, but I had to check. And after spending a boat load of money on it last year to keep it running, I’m afraid if we went ahead and fixed the transmission, something else would just break next week.

So even though we had hoped to hold onto the Blue Bomb for a while longer, it looks like we will soon be retiring it. I’m glad Husband will have a new(er) car to drive, but I will definitely miss the Blue Bomb and what it has represented in our lives.

And, if anyone has any advice on what to do with a car that semi-runs that you won’t be trading in, let me know. We need to make a plan for the day the Blue Bomb finally gives up the ghost.