I picked my Jag up from the mechanic yesterday. He commented that it was in perfect mechanical condition for an X308 with 140,000 miles on it.
I stupidly asked him what I could expect to get out of it. “You don’t have to worry, I’ve even had a few come in with 200,000.”
I’ve never really thought about the mortality of my cars. I’ve had cars that I’ve gotten rid of because they were too much of a hassle to maintain, but I never had one that I had to sell because it wasn’t economically feasible to replace it.
Part of this is because my other car is a Town Car. It’s currently sitting at 198k without ever having a mechanical problem, and I have no doubt that it will make it to 400k. When it does finally die, I will unhesitatingly spend the equivalent of many Craigslist Town Cars to rebuild it, not because it’s a car inherently worth saving, but because I owe such loyalty to a car that has never once let me down in over a decade.
The Jag is different. I love the Jag—it’s everything I ever wanted out of a luxury sedan. But I’ve always known that it will someday become uneconomical to repair, especially considering that it’s not even worth anything.
Even so, I never thought of it as having a solid lifespan. 200,000 miles. That’s 60,000 to go. That’s 12 oil changes. That’s three years with the mileage I put on it. My Jag could die in 2019. My Jag might not live to see Donald Trump’a second term.