Car Stories, We All Have Them

In the spirit of full disclosure, I am warning you this is a paid post (but I will try to make it as interesting as possible).


My first car was a big, green land yacht -- a 1972 Ford LTD that my mom bought me from a really old guy who couldn't drive anymore because he was having trouble seeing. He hardly drove it and it had very little miles, but by the time I was done driving it into the ground, smoke would pour out the back and I couldn't drive it the three hours home from college without having to stop for oil halfway in between.

On the dash was a name tag that said, "Hello! My name is Ginny." The name tag was from my violin-playing college pal and I think it ended up on the dash after Ginny wore it to a concert and stuck it there on the drive back.

Those were the good old days of college when we were wild and crazy and full of youthful optimism. That was also the car that was used as our collective "get away car" during Shannon and Worth's brief stint as thieving criminals. That car carried one stolen homemade palm tree from a party, one giant Razorback rug from a restaurant foyer and an ad circular rack that Worth wanted so he could hang wet socks on it from his dorm room.


When it was time to retire Ginny (the car, not the friend), she was replaced by Phoebe, a little brown Honda Civic. Phoebe was tiny, but serviceable, not nearly as adventurous as the land yacht. She had a hole in the passenger side floorboard and when you'd drive her down the road the air would push the carpet up in a big bubble. The worst part was when it would rain. The carpet would get all wet and then being closed up in the car would stink really bad from mildew or general sourness. Phoebe was cute, but not a real charmer.

I packed her up and made an insane trip to California -- moving there to follow work that may or may not be there when I got there and to be with a guy who may or not be there when I got there who turned out to be a bipolar maniac who didn't even own a car. He rode around on a bicycle. At some point I talked him into test driving an awesome BMW that I fell in love with and he bought it. Now, it wasn't a Audi S4 convertible, but still I never got over my love for that car, but it was really his and when we split the car went with him and now all I can do is thinking fondly of my memories of it.

Phoebe was replaced by a Chevy S-10. At the time I was working at home, all Internet-based stuff and I had this brilliant idea that I would put a camper shell on the back and drive up the coast until I got to the northernmost border of America and at that point I would decide what to do next. It never happened because just before I bought that camper shell I met my current husband and got all domestic and stuff. Oopsie.

Now I have a Chevy Trailblazer and an H3 Hummer because I need an SUV for my work which involves taking strangers into the woods and traipsing around amidst the ticks and chiggers and snakes, crossing my fingers and hoping they will buy something and I don't knock out my front differential which I've already done once now. I suppose I could have gotten a GMC Yukon, but the Trailblazer is nice because of its short wheel base and the Hummer we got because of its awesome clearance.

What I REALLY WANTED was a hybrid SUV, but so far we haven't found one to meet our needs. We considered keeping the SUV for work and getting something like a regular road car such as a nifty honda hybrid for making long trips to the next big town where we do our bulk shopping for a gazillion pounds of basmati rice and for free-range sample grazing at Whole Foods on the weekend. That's heaven.

What I'm not really thrilled about is a plain old car like a Nissan Altima that is just like what everyone else drives. I want something with some spunk or some zing, some personality. Maybe something with flames. Or a cool art car. Or maybe an old vintage car. Or a monster truck with an obscenely huge lift kit.

What would you be driving if you could have your dream car?