Death of Honda

My Honda died, well not dead dead, just dead enough. I bought it from a friend, a former friend and he’s dead too, dead enough. The death was unexpected; things were strained for a while, and even though I thought things could keep on going forever, they just suddenly stopped, and I was stranded. 

I’ve had Hondas before, well Honda, okay, it was an Acura, and I sold it at 300,000 miles; my sales pitch was to put the buyer in the passenger seat and get it to 110 mph in fourth gear, and it was a five speed. A year or so earlier, I had parked it in another friend’s driveway next to two other Hondas, they really were Hondas, and we had 660,000 miles of Hondas side-by-side-by-side. 

I thought my Honda was cut from the same cloth and I imagined it breaking 300,000 miles; in every sense, it was superior to my Acura: a top of the line V6 Accord and garaged since new. It recently got a timing belt, a water pump, four Michelins, the list goes on and on. A recall poorly done leaves me with a slipping transmission, and Honda doesn’t stand behind cars and I wish they did, because I still have reverse.