These are the cars of our lives

[emeleel]

She's never had a name, but I've known her for 9 years. My husband has known her for 11 years. She's this cute little thing with dark blue skin and fast ways. She is, of course, the car. THE car. OUR car. And in a short while, she'll be gone from our lives forever.

Our little Ford Escort was my husband's first car, and has been with him for years now. Through thick and thin, she's always been there, taking him everywhere he needed to go. Then I came along, we married and had kids, and it has been our family car. When Joseph wrecked it two weeks ago we were upset for many reasons, mostly financial, but for him it truly was emotionally upsetting because he could tell from the look of her that the damage was too great. I was more concerned about finances until I got to thinking about all this sweet car has been through and just what it has meant to us. It's really been a major part of our lives, and holds so many memories.

Not only was our Escort Joseph's first car, it was my first stick shift. Joseph patiently taught me how to drive it, and now I'm a pretty good stick driver, even if I still don't like it.

For almost two years, this car carried Joseph 2 hours north from his home to mine once a month for our monthly weekend dates. Considering the fact that he always came up after working all night long, it was imperative that he have a good handling car that wouldn't drive a sleepy person to rage. Thank you, car, for bringing him safely to me and seeing him safely home.

During those dates, we would often go out "parking" in some quiet spot in order to spend some quality time together. We would cuddle up in the back seat, or put down the back seat to snuggle and watch the stars through the hatch window. In that back seat, we laughed and cried together. We talked about everything and nothing, sharing our deepest secrets with each other. We kissed, we snuggled, we did other things that young people are wont to do in the backs of cars. Most imporantly, the back of that car is where I finally accepted Joseph's umpteenth marriage proposal. I always knew I would say yes, but that is where I finally did say it. Three weeks later, we sat in the front seats of the car while Joseph gave me my engagment ring. It may seem funny to other people, but looking back now, it seems just right for us.

When we finally married the Escort was waiting outside, decorated by a loving family, waiting to take us all the way home to start our new life together.

Six years ago, the little blue wonder drove us safely to the hospital, with Joseph driving slowly and carefully, so that I could deliver our first born child. Joseph drove just as carefully home two days later with our little boy bundled in the car seat in the back, now a part of our family. Three years later, we repeated the process to bring home our little girl. Since those days, we have gone so many places together as a family.

They say that men truly love their cars, almost like the women in their lives. I always thought I was the pragmatic, practical one - "It's just a car!" - until I knew that we were going to have to give up our car. It has been such an ingrained part of our lives from before marriage and through almost seven years of marriage, kids, groceries, vacations, emergency room trips and more. Now I understand why men love their cars, even though my love for this particular car is different than my husband's or most mens'. While for men it may be a tie to lost youth, fast times and party memories, for me it is because our car is tied to so many wonderful events and happy memories.

So goodbye, little Escort. Don't think me silly for shedding a tear or two. It's a woman's prerogative to get misty over old, happy times. Our hearts are inextricably linked with those of our family, and I never thought I'd say it, but you've been a great part of our family. I hope they can fix you up so that another family can take you on and let you be a great part of their lives as you have been a part of ours.

[kurt_messick]

I've no time today, but I'll contribute to this anon. I've often felt sentimental about my cars, especially those that have saved me in one way or another.

[frazzledspice]

The only car I've ever felt sentimental about was my Dodge Caravan--maybe because the car that succeeded it (my current Chevy Astro) has been so appallingly awful.

We got the Astro because we lived in South Dakota and their snow removal during the horrendous winters was so horrible (people joked about their road cleanup system, saying it was "God.")

Wanting to survive the years we lived there, we bought a van with All Wheel Drive, Anti-Lock Brakes, dual air bags, etc. (I don't like SUV's--I prefer minivans, and I know I'm in the minority.)

It had all those things, along with terrible gas mileage, poor visibility in the rear (conversion package), a poor service record, etc.

I was going to dump it and had my name on a waiting list for a car with my sister-in-law (who USED to be able to get cars and minivans off leases for $2500....alas, we managed to get our son a 3 year old car with 41,000 miles for $2500, and then her company moved to another state.) I figured we'd replace the minivan with one we wanted and sell the hated Astro for three times as much.

I will probably keep it about 1 1/2 more years.

[pageclot[$]]

I felt much the same way about my Honda Civic wagon, which bit the dust after 310,000 kilometres August 2000.

I miss it.

P

[murasaki]

I'm sentimental about all my cars:

Pookie, the Wonder Egg - a 91 white Geo Metro that saved me a lot of money in college and is still going (though not with me)

Caspar - not technically mine, my college roommate's white CJ-7; we had a lot of good times with that jeep, including have our own primo parking space since no one else's cars could jump the curbs.

The Explorer - my first "real" vehicle that I'm still saddened about parting with but, alas, not front or 4-wheel drive now that I'm in colder climes

Big Blue Bomber - 91 Honda Civic Shuttle, named by my soldiers because I bought such a "big" car in Japan

and my current set of wheels:

The Bourgeois-mobile - a white 2000 Explorer that is embarrassingly high class for public university parking lots.

--naomi

[phoenixx]

Ah memories...

My first car, purchased myself, was a $200 "doo doo Dodge" (Dodge Aries K, circa 1982, FBI blue). After 4 years of great service, RIP 1989 (totaled by oncoming driver in South Carolina rain storm).

My next car was a gift from a stranger. I had moved to California and was walking everywhere, in the worst neighborhoods. I had a full class load in college and three jobs (bartender, waitress and grocery store clerk). While behind my check out counter one day a man I'd never seen before took pity on me and gave me a 1979 Chevrolet Chevette, white on bondo on duct tape with red vinyl and duct tape interior. Hands down the best car I've ever owned.

It literally ran several miles on a fith of Jack Daniels one night when I was completely broke and had run out of gas on the freeway in East LA at 2AM and didn't want to walk to gas station alone in that area. I chose to continue the tradition, and when I was finally able to swing a car payment gave the Chevette to a friend for free on the condition that she do the same eventually. The car is still on the road.

After the Chevette was a Corsica (road apple), an S-10 5-speed, and a series of 5 speed and automatic transmission Rangers (blech). In 1995 I had the opportunity to own a Ford Mustang Cobra Convertible (black on black, slant-h 6 speed shifter, etc etc) . Miss the car, but not the former fiance who ended up with the car

Now I'm back to a Raunchy Ranger. I somehow always end up with Rangers, yech. Thankfully since I moved to a snowy climate and it is a 4x2 I am shopping for the Jeep Cherokee Sport 4x4 of my dreams (the liberty is a joke and the grand cherokee too "bubble car" for me).

Leslie

[magenta321]

Well, I had a hand in picking out all of my mother's cars. I helped her pick out a Firebird in '84, and an Integra in '88. Good thing I liked that Integra, because that was my first car. (I helped her pick out two Accords after that, but I won't get my hands on them).

I really loved my Acura, but I was embarassed that it was old. Yeah, I understand how awful that statement is, but yeah, I honestly was embarassed in High School. I could have done much, much, much worse. However, when you grow up in a "rich" town, and you are "middle class" sometimes you feel that way.

Anyway, I moved away to college and brought my Ack with me. At college, I had an 8 year old car, and was very average. I was no longer embarrassed, until I moved into my apartment. I had three roommates who all had brand-new cars. It killed me. I was so envious. I waited though, and started socking some money away.

Then one day my mom realized my car was leaking oil. We took it to the Honda dealership (there are no Acura dealerships here, and Honda will fix Acura sinc Acuras are over-priced Hondas). They said the spots of oil were because I needed my head-gasket replaced. I knew that couldn't be. I argued with the tech, I told my parents, and I BEGGED my dad to talk to the mechanics (my dad pretends he knows nothing about cars, but he used to rebuild Corvettes when I was a kid... Hmmm...). No one would back me up, and my mother told me to just get the head-gasket replaced. She claimed that since she was paying for it, I shouldn't worry about whether or not my car needed it. Sigh.

I got my head-gasket replaced, and the spots of oil under my car turned into puddles. I was back to Honda every 1-2 days. I was going through a bottle and a half of oil a day, no lie (I just can't remember what the size of those bottles is... Liter? Quart? No matter. 1 1/2 bottles). But the Honda people treated me like I was lying. Nothing was wrong, they claimed. I finally got so sick of it, I shoved a piece of cardboard under my car, and the next morning, drove to Honda and gave them the oil-soaked cardboard. I demanded they explain to me why my car was leaking so much oil. They said it was residue, and would clean the underside of my car and I would have no more problems.

These men at Honda thoroughly embarrassed me and kept treating me like a stupid little girl. They even had the gall to TEACH ME HOW TO CHECK MY OIL AND ADD OIL TO THE CAR! That was interesting, since I was doing it every day, and not having any problems with that part. Sigh. I put up with their b.s. and let them wash the underside of my car. I took my car home.

The next day I drove to work, and as I was cruising the highway my car just died. I nearly was hit by an 18 wheeler. I luckily made it over to the side of the road, and I tried again and again to restart the car. No luck. I called for a tow truck. 2 hours later, I was still there. Four times cops came by to offer me assistance and ask where the tow truck was. I finally tried one last time to start the car, and to my surprise, it started.

I drove straight to Honda. I screamed as I came through the door and did not stop screaming. Again they told me nothing was wrong with my car. Again they treated me like a stupid girl. Hello. Yes, I know nothing about cars, but CARS ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO STOP DEAD IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HIGHWAY! I went to work (albiet very late) and drove to the Volkswagen dealership.

I wanted a Cabrio desperately, but didn't have the money. I settled for the Jetta. The salesmanager took a look at my car since the guy who figured out trade-in prices wasn't there. He said I'd get at least $2500 for a trade in. I said "I'll take it." He looked so shocked. He asked if I wanted to try to sell it on my own, but I didn't even want to look at my Ack ever again. I was all too happy to sell that damn car and get my brandy-new Jetta.

The Volkswagen people don't treat me like a dumb girl. I like Volkswagen. And I love my car. That year was a big one for me. I finally was making decent money, so I bought myself an expensive phone, a stereo, a television, and a new car all within a short period of time. It felt wonderful. If only I had so much money laying around now

I am surprised it happened, but after some time passed, I started seeing my Ack everywhere, and I would get a little sentimental. "Mine was way better... it had a sunroof and raingaurds and...." Sigh. I still am a little sentimental. I know there was nothing majorly wrong with the car when I took it to Honda. But I couldn't take any more of being broken down and being treated so poorly. I somewhat wish I still had that old car. It was paid off, and a gift from my mother. And damnit, until then, it was the best car ever.

I think it's ironic that my mom told me not to worry about getting the head gasket replaced, since she was paying for it. She paid a few hundred dollars. I paid twenty-thousand. Sheesh!

[lambchops]

I've never felt sentimental about any car. That includes my own little 1991 Ford Escort that I've owned since 1994. Eight years with it, and I couldn't care any less about the beast. In fact, I'm so heartless that I'm in the process of ridding myself...

My new Impala is just SOOOOOO much nicer. In fact, my hubby's 1992 Accord is even nicer...

[Trebor1415]

My first car was a'75 Mustang II that my mom bought from a friend for $500 for a HS graduation present in '85. When I got it, there was practically NO oil in the crankcase, but it seemed to run ok. We called it the "Frogmobile" or the "Sludgebuggy," because of its sickly green color. I only had a few months before some woman ran a stop sign at an intersecting road and I broadsided her car. Totaled both cars, but neither one of us was hurt. I'm now a FIRM believer in seatbelts.

My next car was a AMC PACER, like in "Wayne's World," but more beat up. I had plenty of automotive adventures in that car, most of them involving things breaking or falling off of the car, etc. None of them were enjoyable at the time, but all of them are funny in retrospect. After a few months, my dad convinced me it was unsafe to drive so it sat in the front yard while I drove the '75 Maverick I bought to replace it. Dad was anxious for me to sell the Pacer, but I didn't make it a priority, and was glad I still had it when the Maverick threw a rod and died on the side of the road after only five months. (Of course, I paid for it on a 6 month personal loan, so I was still paying it off after it died)

I went back to the Pacer for a couple months, until the brakes went out and i had a nice drive home at 25 MPH with the blinkers on the whole way. I had to coast and then shove it into "Neutral" and then "Park" to stop. Bad, I know, but I just wanted to get home.

Deciding I'd had enough with cheap, used cars, I bought a new '88 Escort for my next car. I needed a car RIGHT NOW for School and had no money to speak off, but I did have a job and a co-signer for the loan (dad). Ford had a cash rebate that you could use as a downpayment program at the time, so I was able to walk in with less then $1 in my pocket, and walk out with a new car. Of course, I had to talk something off the lot, and wound up with a four speed stick. I didn't really know how to drive a stick, so a friend test drove the car for me and then showed me what to do after we left the dealership and had me take over. She then had me drive her car to and from the dealership for the next couple of trips while we get all the paperwork squared away. By the end, I was able to drive my car away unassissted, but only barely.

I drove that car for 11 years and while I tried to keep it in good shape, things just keep breaking. By the time it died a couple years ago, it was known as the "Deathmobile" because of it's more or less unsafe condition. I wouldn't let anyone else drive it, but I knew its quirks and did ok with it, until it too died on the side of the road.

I know have a '92 Saturn SC which I get a great deal on. It was well kept up when I got it, and I've made a point to keep up on the regular maintenance and get things fixed if/when they break. I still miss the "Deathmobile" though. Lotsa fun times in that car.

Rob

[thinkerlady[$]]

I miss my hubby's 1981 red honda accord. It was truely "our" car. Too many memories to ever forget!!!!