Should we be sentimental about cars, or should we be able to detach the memories from the inanimate object itself?
At the ripe young age of 22 years old, I was digging myself out of the hole I created by trying to pull myself up by my bootstraps and put myself through college, pursuing an Aerospace Engineering degree. I dropped out at age 19 with a credit score you could count on two hands. By 22, I was delivering sandwiches for Jimmy John’s in a not-so-freaky-fast NA Mazda Miata. At a stout 6’ 3” and 325 pounds (at the time), it wasn’t exactly roomy, but it was what I had.
That is, until my credit score finally started to climb as each Italian Night Club or Pepe put a little cash in my pocket, and a little chip off my student loan debt. A little fragment out of my resulting debt collection from school debt I couldn’t cover with a loan. Once I had a decent enough credit score and convincing income, in April 2018, I put in a loan application for a car a couple of states over in Washington. A 2016 Ford Fiesta ST, because my friend Garrett had just bought one, and it was awesome.
I was approved.
Should We Be Sentimental About Cars?
Two years later, it’s January 2020. I’ve taken another giant leap and quit my job at Jimmy John’s to pursue a career in automotive journalism. I drive to Orange County, California, from my home in Boise, Idaho, to review a camper-converted Ford Transit. This is it, I’m doing it for real. Nothing can stop me now…Except COVID.
The ad rates dry up as every industry shuts down. I drive back to Idaho, knowing it’s going to be tough for a couple of weeks if things keep going the way the news says they will, but I’ll make it through. As the tunnel kept closing, though, the two weeks to “flatten the curve” passed by, and I start to realize I have a problem. I have no job, rent to pay, and a car payment for my Fiesta ST.
In the year 2020, I put over 50,000 miles on my Fiesta ST alone. I drove for DoorDash seven days a week from 7:00 AM to 1:00 AM, pounding no less than 800mg of caffeine a day so I could maintain some semblance of normality in the crazy world we were living in. I spent more time in my Fiesta ST that year than I did in my house, and I genuinely believe that.
Should We Be Sentimental About Cars?
Jump ahead to now. May, 2026. I have a comfortable job that I love, I’m living outside of Los Angeles, and I’ve been paid to drive everything from Ferraris and Maseratis to full-blown race cars on a proper road course. I have a YouTube channel that’s doing well alongside its associated Instagram and Facebook pages. I’m lucky enough to travel the country, enjoying my lifelong hobby. Truly, I’ve been blessed beyond belief, and sometimes I feel like I have it all. What I don’t have now, though, is my Fiesta ST.
Thanks to a 19-year-old driver with no valid license, no insurance, and an inattentive ignorance of a red light, I no longer have my Fiesta ST. 250,000 miles, eight years, four residences, three jobs, hundreds of hours behind the wheel across dozens of states. The Fiesta wasn’t just a car for me; it was a staple turning point in my life. The point where I finally felt like I had accomplished something that a real adult would do. I built my credit, I got a job, I bought my first new(ish) car. It was the first time I truly felt like I had taken control of my life, and it was there for every single step of the way that got me to where I am now.
So, I ask again
Should We Be Sentimental About Cars?
Probably not. It had 270,000 miles on a high-compression turbocharged engine, 240,000 miles on the clutch, 270,000 miles on the turbo, the transmission, the differential, etc. It was starting to show its signs of wear. As much as I want to believe it had another eight years and 250,000 miles in it, I’m not sure it actually did. It’s just a machine. A tool, like all cars are.
What we should be sentimental about, though, are the memories. The milestones. The trips, the friends, the life changes, the ups, the downs, the relationships, and everything that our tools and machines enable. Most of us are, but for some, it’s hard to separate the two.
My friend Jason Fenske isn’t sentimental about cars, as I discussed with him in an interview for this very website.
I just sold what was left of my Fiesta ST.
Right now, I wish I were like my friend Jason.
