I hate my old car, and by hate I do mean love. You know what I'm talking about. It's the worst piece of junk you've ever set foot in. It has been one of the best cars you've ever owned.
My car is old. It's not an old cool car like a 1965 Ford Mustang. It's one of those old box-shaped cars from the 80s that looks like it was afraid of women and aerodynamics. Back then they strapped wheels to a refrigerator and called it a car.
When my car was made, Chernobyl was only three years old. Star Wars Episode VI, Return of the Jedi six.
When my car was made, the Berlin wall fell.
When my car was made, George Bush senior and Mikhail Gorbachev were the presidents of the U.S. and U.S.S.R respectively.
When my car was made, I was about to start high school. That is old.
The advantage of an old car is that I can still take it apart and do some of the repairs myself. It doesn't have a carburettor — fuel injection must've been a big deal back then — but the electronic components are very few. Just stay the hell out of their way.
I have a trunk full of just in case. I don't even know the times when having duct tape, zip ties, a jumper cable, a fuse, meant the difference of making it home. I felt like Han Solo, fixing his ship, ready to face another adventure, a cargo hold full of just-in-cases. Getting your own car to roar back to life makes you feel like a man, master of his mechanical domain.
The disadvantage of an old car is that any day is a good day that something major will break, something duct tape, zip ties, a jumper cable, or a fuse can't fix.
When you see Han Solo tinker around on his ship, it looks really cool. His ship looks really cool too! It's got a dish and some zinghies that stick out. But Leia keeps calling it a piece of junk — which is probably what the Millennium Falcon is. Leia must've felt she was sitting in the equivalent of a space Chevy Chevette.
Han probably hates his ship. And by hate I mean love.