Have you ever owned a car you loved, but you knew it was time to move on to a newer one?

For me, that car was my 1988 Oldsmobile Delta 88 (an '88 88), which now has 186,000 miles on the odometer. My friends and I refer to it as the "Mooshmobile" (the personalized plates read "MOOSH"). Although I have recently replaced it with a Grand Am, I still have the car. After all, the amount of money I'd likely be offered for it would be far less than what it is worth to me. Laugh if you must, but, yes, I am emotionally attached to the car (okay, you can stop laughing now). Although the Mooshmobile has self-destructed over the past few years, that's what gives it so much character.

Unlike a lot of "full-size" cars made today, this Oldsmobile has plenty of room. It can very comfortably seat 5 people, and the clown capacity would likely be over 20. The back seat has plenty of leg room, and the trunk is spacious. The seats are comfortable, even for long drives. Last year, I drove the car from Wisconsin to New Jersey to Boston and back, and it was amazingly comfortable. The 3.8 Liter, 5 cylinder engine (one cylinder is dead) still has a lot of power. The speedometer only goes up to 85, so I can't tell you the top speed (any idea how fast you're going when the needle is pointing straight down?). The car has 15-inch P225 tires, and is great in snow. Even with several inches of snow in the driveway, this car blazed right through it. At 3100 pounds, I felt safe and secure driving this monster. Periodically, I had to extract little Yugo's and Kia's from the wheel wells (okay, I made that part up).

The Mooshmobile has a few minor problems with it. The windshield has a long crack from a flying rock. There is a minor dent in the front left fender from my collision with a deer (important note: no animals were intentionally harmed in the making of this epinion; the deer literally ran into my car, gave me a dirty look, and bounded into the woods, seemingly okay). Only one of the four power windows work, and the power door locks work only on rare occasions. The air conditioner hasn't worked for years. The hood has to be propped up with a wood stick to stay open. Before I owned the car, it was stolen and vandalized. The thieves ripped off the armrests on the doors, and left them hanging by the power window wires. That's the likely explanation for the bizarre electrical problems I've had with the car. Personally, I always just assumed that it was possessed by Satan. I glued the armrests back on with a hot glue gun, which in retrospect, seems pretty clueless. The glue melted right off on the first hot sunny day. They are now held on with a combination of epoxy and duct tape. Needless to say, it looks quite attractive!

Driving the Mooshmobile has often been an adventure. A few years ago, in the middle of winter (and remember, this is in the frozen tundra of Wisconsin), I would be driving, and the driver's window would start going down by itself. The only way to get it to go back up was to hit the up button, which would stop it's downward progress, and hold the button until I could pull the car over. Then I had to pull the window up with all my strength while pushing the up button, and eventually it would go up slowly. After going through this a good dozen times, I decided to disconnect the wire. It was nice not to have to worry about the window going down on its own, but that was the end of drive-throughs, and rolling down the window on warm days. Since the air-conditioner didn't work, and only the passenger window opened, it got stifling hot in there. When I went to New Jersey last summer for the Springsteen shows, it was 95-102 degrees for over a week straight, and the temperature in the car must have reached at least 97 gazillion degrees (Fahrenheit).

Another strange problem I had with the car was when the driver's door decided it didn't want to open for a few weeks (I finally fixed it with half a can of WD-40, the miracle spray). Since my window didn't open either, this made going through Illinois tolls quite interesting. I had to slide over, get out of the passenger door, run around the front of the car, throw the change in the basket, then run back around, get back in the car, slide over, and drive off. Of course, I had to do this quickly, as not to hold up the cars behind me. I got some pretty funny looks from people in cars behind me. I just smiled and shrugged my shoulders as I got in the passenger door.

Like every car I've owned, the Mooshmobile is a police magnet. I was pulled over numerous times in the car for speeding or other minor traffic violations. This included an interrogation and an amusing good cop/worse cop routine by the Secaucus, NJ Police Department for the heinous crime of an illegal left turn, and a Wisconsin Deputy who asked to search my trunk for drugs.

Despite the minor annoyances with the car, the Mooshmobile has always gotten me where I've wanted to go (other than the two blown head gaskets within a few months). It always started in the winter, even when the temperature was -20. When my Grand Am didn't want to start one day, I hopped in the Mooshmobile, and turned the key. Despite sitting out in the cold for several weeks without being started, it fired right up. I wouldn't be surprised if the car lasted another 186,000 miles.

Some may snicker when they see my car on the road, but they don't know The Legend of the Mooshmobile!