R.I.P., 2TAC087

In the past two days, I visited two different Toyota dealerships. Once to interview people about the cash for clunkers program for today's story and another time to provide input as my father bid farewell to his clunker -- a 1990 Acura Legend.

He literally said goodbye to his vehicle. My dad, who rarely shows emotion to his own children, showed sadness to an inanimate object. I watched as he patted the center console and said, "Bye, car."

The car, which reached 245,000 miles and averaged only 18 miles per gallon, was still a legend in my eyes. My dad dropped me off at school every morning in that car during my junior high days and I always considered it a luxury car. There were automatic doors and windows. Sunroof. Cruise control. Volume control on the steering wheel. And the seats, which were electrically powered, not only moved and tilted back and forth but went up and down.

It was affectionately called the "taco car" because the zero in the license plate, "2TAC087," looked like a letter.

Nostalgia aside, it was a clunker. When dad drove to the dealership over the weekend, the glove compartment plopped right on my lap after we went over a subtle speed bump. The trunk refused to remain open, which meant you had to hold it open with one hand while getting items out with another or risk getting beheaded. Dad kept a broken golf club in the trunk to prop it open.

When I lived abroad or out of state, I'd drive the Legend while home for vacation. I especially enjoyed listening to my old cassettes during the drive. Dad got back $4,500 for his new Matrix, a car with an auxiliary output, allowing him to plug his MP3 loaded cell phone. It seemed like he completely bypassed CD technology in one fell swoop.

Anyone else have a cash for clunkers story to tell?