Baby, take a ride in my coupe

Or, you know, my sedan, because I'm an old lady now.

Goodbye, my sporty little Jetta, with your nearly-defunct water pump, your cracked side mirror, your hubcapless front wheel, your trunk still filled with remnants of the rock salt that saved me during the long, hard winters in Hamilton, NY.

Goodbye, quirky little car with heated cloth seats and tape deck, possessed windows that had a habit of simply disappearing -- almost always right before a rainstorm, temperamental moonroof that opened when it darn well pleased.

Hello, Honda Accord sedan, with your extra-long body that I never pull far enough into a parking space, your locks that don't lock when the spedometer reaches 10mph (like Dear Jetta did), your crazy automatic lights that ping when I open the door.

Hello, old person's car, raising your cool factor considerably with your airy moonroof and your intoxicating six-CD changer.

I think, and I hope, that ours will be a long and beautiful relationship. But it's hard to give up your first love.