There comes a point in life, when everything must come to an end. Just sometimes you don't know how soon- or how far away the end maybe. I used to drive a 1980 GMC truck that my family liked to call POJ (aka piece of junk). As much as I hate to admit it, I loved the dang thing even though everything was falling apart. I mean after 25 years of driving nothing worked, one radio station in select parts of town, no heater or AC (however, the windows did go down... with a little effort), and then there was the hole in the floor, and I will always remember how it would max out at 35 mph while going up hills (or even slight inclines). But no matter what was wrong with it I must admit it had some pretty awesome features too. I mean how many cars can you take the keys out of the ignition while driving and not have any problems. And I don't know if you get a bum massage every time you drive- but I did. Then there was also the awesome diesel sign on the bent hood (it never was the same ever since Aaron shut it after jump starting another car.... lol not that POJ had enough power to jump start any other cars) everyone would always tell me how sweet that was- my family pulled it off as a momento. :) I also loved the "Mormons believe families are forever" bumper sticker and the license plate holder reading "don't laugh, it's paid for." I've never seen one that bets it. Although I’m excited to be able to drive a newer car, I must admit that I will always miss my baby. POJ will always hold a place dear to my heart.