You’re an Uber driver and, after years of paying for repairs, your car is dead.

Here are the ways to get another car: A) take out a loan, B) dip into that secret-secret account, C) borrow that beater from the Uncle who still think Arakawa’s exists, or D) receive the money for a new car from your parents and spend the next forever debating on how to spend it.

When it comes to money, the state always picks “D.”

And that is why months after $400 million has been appropriated to replace condemned Aloha Stadium on exactly the same spot, there are ongoing meetings and debates and finger-pointing instead of, well, sledge hammering or whatever it is that turns a rusted stadium into a pile of rust to be recycled or hauled away.

Not sure why the replacement system has to be more complicated than University of Hawaii equipment manager Al Ginoza’s trade-in policy: bring in the holey pair of socks, get a new pair. Aloha Stadium breaks, build another one.

Of course, the initial blame rests with the original planners. As any Windward home owner knows, metal does not rust to a point and then stop. Metal objects — appliances, rakes, stadiums — do not do well in salt-water air. The state has spent millions in repairs to Aloha Stadium. It locked the facility into a football configuration for stability. It fixed the plumbing over and over. Eventually, it stopped paying attention to the “check engine” light and hoped for the best.

Nearly two years after the Halawa facility was shuttered for spectator-attended events, there is money — our taxpayer contributions — to build a new facility. But there is a who’s-in-charge battle, as well as tsk-tsking from those who feel the money should be spent in other ways.

The perception, like all publicly funded projects, is it will be a money pit, like the rail. But drivers idling in 3 p.m. traffic know the need for an easier commute to West Oahu. A rail was a good idea; building the equivalent of H-4 for uku-billion bucks, maybe not so much. But the rail was always intended to be a solution to traffic congestion, not the only solution. There is no legislative mandate against building a rail and improving the bus system. It never was an either-or situation.

The construction of a replacement stadium also was never an alternative to adequately compensating public-school teachers or building affordable housing. If teachers ask for a 10% raise, there is nothing prohibiting the state from countering with a 20% hike. Lawmakers have had decades to propose building more affordable housing. When Aloha Stadium’s former neighbor, Castle Park, went belly up, that would have been a suitable area to purchase and develop. Maybe there should be a consideration to making exiting housing more affordable by, say, imposing a non-occupancy tax on owners?

And while plans for an accompanying entertainment district would help offset expenses for the new stadium, it is not a pressing need. Oahu already has a 3.4-square-mile district with restaurants, bars, entertainment, beaches and hotels. It’s called Waikiki.

But what Oahu lacks is a venue for major concerts, professional sporting events, and, yes, University of Hawaii football games. It lacks a large gathering place.

The Rainbow Warriors’ temporary football home — the Ching Complex — is restrictive because of space and zoning rules. The sight lines are limited, the seats are benches, and the visiting team changes in the baseball stadium’s concourse.

Honolulu is not Kokomo, the Beach Boys’ fictitious getaway. It is a major city that happens to have a warm climate and warmer people. Major cities have a stadium, symphony, museums, music clubs, well-stocked libraries, theaters, convention centers, zoos, and Costcos.

For 49 years, Honolulu Stadium served Hawaii’s need for musical and sports entertainment. For another 45 years, Aloha Stadium did the same. There is money for a new stadium. Leaders can argue, argue some more, and then hug it out. But a new facility should be built before it goes the way of the hurricane fund.