Since we bought the vintage Beetle, I’ve not given my old girl Lucy (a 2000 model) the time of day. She’s surely been feeling neglected and unloved sitting in the sultry heat of my parents’ driveway for the last few weeks. To prove her worth, she cranked right up tonight and I zipped into town feeling so thankful for a good car that cranks every time, that stops when I mash the brakes, that has cold air conditioning that doesn’t make weird noises, that smells like a new box of Crayolas when you open the door, that I feel fully in control of all the time. Old cars are cool, but nothing beats my Lucy. Yes, I give my vehicles names. So what?