Power locks and windows, leather interior, stereo system with multiple CD-changer, extra-large trunk, cup holders, pop-up digital display and last but not least, extra horsepower.

These are just a few of the concessions one can add on to a new car. “Fully-loaded” is the official jargon, and “sweet” is the ride that results.

My car and I are too close for this sort of tomfoolery, however.

For me, fully-loaded could include functional seatbelts, a self-closing glove compartment and the ever-popular working tape deck with non-static speakers and Dolby Noise Reduction.

The Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera, according to www.autosafety.org, Ralph Nader’s Center for Auto Safety Web site, was discontinued in 1996. Problems

experienced included “Automatic transmission failure (1982-91), power steering loss when cold (1982-88), premature rear tire wear (1985-86) and peeling paint (1985-92).” In other words, my car should die approximately, oh, at noon today.

In my Model A-car, other problems are uncontrolled acceleration, the Web site states.

Well, I don’t know much about cars, but the day my Betty has an uncontrolled acceleration will be a miracle. A creaky-boned vehicle at heart, “acceleration” is not a word in her vocabulary.

“Winter” also escapes the comprehension of my slick machine. It’s great when the door freezes just enough that it still opens but won’t close. Driving home at 1 a.m. holding the door shut can make anyone think seriously about investing in bungee cords.

Driving with anyone is a hoot. I love shouting across the wind tunnel to a friend, only to hear them yell, “nevermind” at full volume. A fully-loaded car, at least in my world, would include insulated windows.

My windows were insulated at one point, until that fateful day when I heard the Grim Reaper slap-slapping the insulating strips across the glass. I knew the days of car conversation and heat were over.

At least the radio works. There’s nothing like a car getting arthritis. Before the death of the wire, I had to assist the antennae up and down. However, those who borrowed the car weren’t aware of its condition. Inevitably, they would turn it on. And, inevitably, I would tear out of the office at the mention of the word “radio” praying for my battery power and mercy from the auto gods.

In the end, we had to cut the fuse. Strangely, the car took it well and the antennae hasn’t broken off yet.

Various other parts of my car have chosen to take the passage home more quietly. I came out of the rec one night (my 12th visit) to find the dilapidated bumper on the windshield, rescued by some well-meaning exerciser.

The rumble-meister has been known to bite back. This summer, she took a terrific piece out of a garage & it stayed in line the rest of the time.

Probably the best part of my car is the four-cylinder engine.

I hold on to the hope that it will continue to run, even when my car resembles the post-deer mess with the wooden gate convertible contraption in “Tommy Boy.”

In the end, I suppose my car’s demise is the fault of a 16-year-old speed racer whose only goal at acquiring the car was to get out of the house and see how fast the car could go until the needle disappeared. The numbers “85 mph” weren’t enough.

Then, I added on a few college trips and last summer a job three hours away from home. The day Betty passed 100,000 was like a milestone in my own life & one that reeked of gas-guzzling grunts from the back end.

Now, Oldsmobile has discontinued production and the parts, all three available, will stay stocked until 2011.

If I pay $20 to $40, I can get a handy-dandy printout of “complaints and/or service bulletins from the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration”

concerning my car.

At the risk of my car making it through today, I’ll pass. I think I can keep track on my own & piece by piece.