Imagine rolling into your driveway tonight and parking a 1999-model sedan.

Back in the day when you brought it from the showroom, its chrome glistened. Its big, powerful engine purred like a kitten. There were no warning lights on the dashboard.

But tonight, the bucket of rust sputtered off the highway, its transmission slipping and the check engine light glowing like Rudolph’s nose on Christmas Eve.

Every month for a long time now, the local mechanic has been smiling as you hand him a massive check to keep it road legal. And in these days of $4-a-gallon gasoline, it may as well run as if the exhaust smoke it spews came from burning dollar bills.

Your neighbor has been telling you about getting rid of it for something more reliable. He did it again tonight.

It’s unimaginable that your answer would be: “No thanks, a new car costs too much upfront.”

Hopefully, you’d realize that the four-wheeled junker you’ve been throwing money at is probably the most expensive choice you can make.

It’s exactly the financial pothole that Carbon County falls into every time its leaders hedge at funding a countywide property tax reassessment.

Granted, the job of running a county isn’t an easy one and the mileage of the journey can certainly take its toll.

Counties are responsible for everybody who lives in a borough or township or school district in Pennsylvania.

Commissioners are tasked with decision making on planning and land use, elections, human services that include state-mandated programs for children and youth, drugs and alcohol abuse, mental health and intellectual disability.

If that’s not enough, they handle nursing homes and long-term care, juvenile detention centers and juvenile justice.

Add to that operating and overseeing county courts, magistrate courts, jails and corrections programs.

The list also includes things like emergency services — the 911 centers, hazard responses and homeland security planning.

Perhaps the hardest part is the assessment offices that set the values for property taxes in municipalities and schools. They set the rates and hear the appeals and try to do their best to keep it all equal. They keep the records and send out the bills.

That’s enough to put a strain on even the strongest engines. After 27 years, Carbon County’s engine is showing signs of wear.

Let’s take a look under the hood of this Carbon clunker.

The glowing “check engine” light of years past signals many things, but without a more accurate assessment, exact issues are hard to identify.

A new car — reassessment — comes with new detection systems. Plug in some diagnostic tools and you’ll instantly find any flaws.

The reassessment also shows those who’ve been underpaying and those who’ve been overpaying for 27 years.

When those values are reset to true market value, roughly one-third will see taxes go up — most probably in commercial developments or lakefront properties that have gained considerable market value.

It’s a good bet there would be backlash from those property owners that might make county officials uncomfortable.

The new wheels would keep taxes the same for one third, and for the remainder, taxes would go down.

It would be a real morale booster for commissioners to hear from those folks.

Officials might be reluctant to change because the old clunker still runs, even though it costs a fortune to keep it patched up.

Maybe the county struggles with finding the cash to finance a shiny new model, like many families today. Carbon’s bank account isn’t a well that never runs out.

Smaller siblings like school districts, boroughs and townships will also benefit from the new model and shouldn’t leave the county to cover the payments by itself.

At the very least, they should kick in somehow to help pay for the gas.

The county’s richer big brothers in Harrisburg aren’t helping much, either.

It’s certainly within reason that officials blame the state for not making their path smoother. It’s understandable because the Tin Lizzy’s been navigating the same route for years, given an occasional bump along the way.

County leaders are often turned toward cutting costs and services to keep the old car running. But cuts can only go so far before the wheels come off.

And when the crash comes, taxpayers are the unprotected ones.

Replacing Carbon’s car would make things more streamlined. In the long run, it might even pay for itself by recapturing value of new homes, businesses and industries.

Down the road it’ll get harder to fund infrastructure, schools and social programs by using a 1999 engine.

And who knows how long it’ll last?

It’s time for Carbon to retire the junker, upgrade it with a newer, streamlined model and put the pedal to the metal on the road to progress.

All they need is a smooth, clear path.

ED SOCHA | tneditor@tnonline.com

Ed Socha is a retired newspaper editor with more than 45 years’ experience in community journalism.

The foregoing opinions do not necessarily reflect the views of the Editorial Board or Times News LLC.