A new car. Do I have to?

My 1985 Subaru Brat, a car/truck hybrid, is navy blue with a snow-white cap covering the super-cool rear-facing jump seats in the bed. The “Roo” is a small two-seater that is so skinny it takes up barely half of a lane on the expressway and fits comfortably into the most compact of compact parking spots.

The Roo has given me more than 175,000 virtually trouble-free miles. And I am not a person deserving of such giving.

I bought the Roo in the fall of 1991 from a couple of soon-to-be parents in Ann Arbor, Mich. They were making the move to a mini-van. With the purchase came a file folder containing every repair and maintenance receipt for the car dating back to the original purchase.

"Yeah, that’s great," I said, as I threw the folder in the passenger seat while testing the radio. "Do these seats recline any more?"

When I plunked down the $2,000 to buy the four-year-old import, I just thought it was a great way to lug my music equipment around. It was also much cooler than the rusted-out 1974 Ford pickup I was driving at the time.

There was a time - during one of the Roo’s oil-leak phases - when I used the oil pressure gauge like the gas gauge. If the oil pressure was low, I needed to put in a quart. If I waited long enough and the engine started ticking, I needed to add two quarts. Since I was putting in new oil to replace the oil now decorating the street, that was just as good as an oil change. The mechanic who fixed the leak - something to do with a head and a casket - corrected my naive theory.

Later I developed a schedule. The Roo got an oil change once a year, whether it needed it or not. An annual car wash was also in order; navy blue hides dirt remarkably well. Tires needed replacing when one blew out, hopefully close to home.

After a couple years in Ann Arbor and Detroit, I saw gold and platinum in the fabled grunge scene of Seattle. My band mates and I made the trek across the country in a four-car caravan and the Roo made the 2300-mile trip with ease.

After I settled in Seattle, the Roo became very loud and needed some exhaust work. I looked through the folder of receipts to see if any exhaust work had been done before. As I flipped through, the first few were from Dunning Subaru in Ann Arbor, mainly for oil changes and a burned out blinker bulb. Further back in time, the dealership changed to Renton Subaru. That being in Renton, Washington.

The Roo had come home. In January of 1985, those car-selling parents-to-be were newlyweds living in West Seattle. They bought the Roo and drove it to Ann Arbor sometime in 1988, only to have me drive it back five years later.

Fifteen of my 18 years of driving have been in the Roo. A lot has happened in those years. There’s a tear in the front-seat upholstery that has been growing for about 10 years. What at the time sounded like a gunshot was actually a rock from a gravel truck I was following. It started a crack in the windshield that now stretches from one side to the other. Two small patches of rust, one on the hood and the other on the tailgate, are the only imperfections on the body.

I’ve gotten married, bought a house and a new Jetta for my wife. Occasionally my wife will ask me when we are getting another car to replace the Roo. “Next summer,” I say. That has been the standard answer for seven years running.