I'm the proud owner of a 2000 Malibu LS. Even though it's got 170k miles on it, it still (mostly) runs like new, and I'm so pleased with the car. Kind of. The engine makes a 'clicking' sound, and I think it's the alternator, but that's a question for a mechanic. Not only that, but the CD player is broken 
. Okay, tangents aside, I have a story about how I discovered this appreciation for my car.
Shortly after I got my license, my parents bought a Malibu - the car I was going to be driving to get to school and work. It belonged to them, so naturally I did dumb, dumb things and beat the snot out of it. Somewhere between starting junior year and graduating, my Malibu became known as "The Beast" by my friends and I for it's ability to take insane pounding. After graduation, my parents gave me the car. Despite it's nickname, it was still just a way to get around to me. That changed about two months ago.
It had been a rainy, busy worknight, and I decided to have some fun in the parking lot before driving home. I went to the front of the lot (which was empty!) and sped towards the back of the lot, driving straight towards the half of the parking lot that is dirt. I was going perhaps 30mph when I engaged my e-brake and turned into the drift. Suddenly, I heard a terrifyingly loud snap/boom sound from my car and the brakes stopped working. Near-death experience aside, my car was broken! I got out of the car, and as I was laying on my back in a puddle of mud/rain trying to look at (what i now know is) the brake assembly, it hit me that I didn't know ANYTHING about my car. It also hit me that fact was completely unacceptable to me, and to be honest, I felt like I had just killed "The Beast".
Two days of scratching my head and swearing to myself later, I finally had the brakes put back together. To stand back and see The Beast alive again filled me with enthusiasm. I've since adopted a strict washing method, and I can't wait to start putting some roar into the beast.
. Okay, tangents aside, I have a story about how I discovered this appreciation for my car.Shortly after I got my license, my parents bought a Malibu - the car I was going to be driving to get to school and work. It belonged to them, so naturally I did dumb, dumb things and beat the snot out of it. Somewhere between starting junior year and graduating, my Malibu became known as "The Beast" by my friends and I for it's ability to take insane pounding. After graduation, my parents gave me the car. Despite it's nickname, it was still just a way to get around to me. That changed about two months ago.
It had been a rainy, busy worknight, and I decided to have some fun in the parking lot before driving home. I went to the front of the lot (which was empty!) and sped towards the back of the lot, driving straight towards the half of the parking lot that is dirt. I was going perhaps 30mph when I engaged my e-brake and turned into the drift. Suddenly, I heard a terrifyingly loud snap/boom sound from my car and the brakes stopped working. Near-death experience aside, my car was broken! I got out of the car, and as I was laying on my back in a puddle of mud/rain trying to look at (what i now know is) the brake assembly, it hit me that I didn't know ANYTHING about my car. It also hit me that fact was completely unacceptable to me, and to be honest, I felt like I had just killed "The Beast".
Two days of scratching my head and swearing to myself later, I finally had the brakes put back together. To stand back and see The Beast alive again filled me with enthusiasm. I've since adopted a strict washing method, and I can't wait to start putting some roar into the beast.
