Nearly twenty years ago during a veritable monsoon in Houston, I drove our VW convertible through a puddle that turned out to be a pond. Water surged over the hood of the car which chug … chug…ged to a slow halt. I waded knee-deep to the curb where a sympathetic neighbor brought me an umbrella.

When I received a call from the repair shop, “Cody” sorrowfully reported that the car was totaled. Totaled? Our fun little convertible? I sputtered, “Can’t you do something? It wasn’t salt water. It was rainwater; my mother used to wash her hair in rainwater! It can’t hurt anything! Can’t you just dry out the sparkplugs with a hairdryer? What’s the big deal?” After a moment of silence, Cody drawled, “No disrespect, Ma’am, but just how old are you?”

When I didn’t reply, he explained patiently, “It’s the electronics, Ma’am. They got wet and they’re done for – like if you dropped your computer into the bathtub. Better check out your insurance.”

Young at Heart

Luckily the convertible was a second car, so we weren’t in a hurry to replace it. We finally chose a pearl white Mini Cooper S with a blue top and blue leather upholstery; it had all the “bells and whistles” of 2006 – cruise control and two side beepers if you came too close to another car when parking. Backup cameras, lane control devices, automatic brakes were Marty McFly accessories of the future. The car was small enough that our Texas friends could toss it onto the bed of one of their pickups if we ever ran into trouble!

Because the Mini was marketed to younger people and most Texans preferred oversized powerful vehicles, Perk and I often received surprised looks as we scooted through the traffic of Houston with the top down, driving it through the Texas Hill Country, going on jaunts to see fossilized dinosaur tracks in riverbeds and photographing the fields of blue bonnets. We felt young and carefree in the Mini. One day as we stopped at a red light, a pickup truck full of teenage boys sped by. One leaned out of the back of the truck and shouted, “Hey! Your car matches the color of your hair!!” And they were right, of course!

One evening when we were getting into the Mini, two couples in their thirties crossed the parking lot to ask about it. We were enthusiastic about the mileage, how fun it was to drive, that it had a low center of gravity and hugged the curves in the Hill Country, how we could squeeze into parking lots that were supposedly full.  As they walked away toward their pickups, we heard one of the women say, “Aren’t they adorable?”  Oops! Again we realized that although the car made us feel young, we didn’t look that way!

Retired, but Not Tired

A Mini is rarely seen in southwest Florida because it’s not comfortable for retired senior citizens: it’s hot to drive it with the top down, it’s difficult to get in and out of as your muscles tighten and your bones creak with age, mature women don’t like their hair blowing in the wind and mature men don’t want their bald heads to sunburn. But Perk and I refuse to give in. We’re young at heart and we’re driving a car that proves it!

We were in the technology education business and, hairdryers and sparkplugs aside, we have embraced the new technologies. I love all the safety features on the new cars. I love my smart phone, my tablet, my camera, my Kindle, my computer and its oversized monitor. And with retirement, I have had time to embrace all of them. When AI and Chat GPT became easily available, I was an enthusiastic adopter. I have used it for such diverse tasks as planning menus for friends who have chronic kidney failure, experimenting with apartment decor, valuing antiques, and troubleshooting why my oven quit working. AI is Alexa or Siri on steroids!

Got Gas?

No, I’m not resorting to a flatulence joke. A few weeks ago we opened the Mini’s garage and smelled gasoline! We hastily called REA Automotive owned by our favorite mechanic. Ryan has maintained the Mini for twelve years and the aging car is his joy almost as much as it is ours – after nearly 20 years, the engine still purrs and the car accelerates as if it just came off the showroom floor.

He ran tests for five days – every possible check from the EVAP hoses and charcoal canister to UV fluorescent dye detection. No test revealed a gas leak, but he could smell it. The leak was there – somewhere. At last Ryan called a “family council.” We sat in his office, mourning the next step. (It made me think of our children sometime in the future, trying to decide what to do with us!) Ryan advised taking the Mini to the dealership to sell it for parts because we didn’t want to endanger someone by selling it to them to drive. We reluctantly concurred.

Chat GPT: The New Anti-Aging Solution

But when we got home, Perk declared, “Let’s not give up. The Mini is US. It’s old, but fun to have around occasionally – just like we are! I’m going to ask Chat GPT.”

Opening the AI function he wrote, “What could cause a gas leak in a 2006 Mini Cooper S with 76,000 miles on it?” Within seconds, Chat GPT replied with a lengthy list of possible causes – all of which Ryan had already investigated. Until the very last one: a miniscule hairline crack in a part that could only be discovered by removing the back seat of the car and using a floodlamp.

And there Ryan found it. And fixed it.

And here we are, thanks to AI, driving the Mini with its top down, our white hair blowing in the breeze, and of course, still adorable!