Thank you Robert Hruzek from Middle Zone Musings for the opportunity to participate in yet another WILF writing project with you.

The topic this time had to do with a mash up of ideas, meaning more than one topic.  For me the idea of what I learned from my automobiles spoke to me loudest, so that is what I decided to write about.  

Thanks goes to Lill of News from Hawkhill Acres, who’s wonderful silly stories had me initially leave this as a comment – she is the one who encouraged me to write it as a post..

Once upon a time, long ago and oh so far away, a car named JOEY, my very first car,  blew up on the highway in between Tucson and Phoenix on Hwy10.  Because I was on a mission to return to Chicago to hook up with my high school sweetheart, I bought BEATER BUD. His lovely alternator died 150 miles after I purchased it. Yes, deep in the dark and in the thick of the Phoenix mountains – merely 2 hours after purchasing it - I had to spend more money. The car was dead.  That car actually nickle and dimed me all the way home to Chicago.  During the bitter cold Chicago winters BEATER BUD would stamp his excuse me - I am a 1967 Oldsmobile from warm and sunny Arizona feet, and ignite little bonfires in its carburetor -  you know back in the old days where you actually knew where the carburetors were.  The phrase know the anatomy of your car engine, comes to mind.  This car had a multitude of problems.  One day, on a dare actually, I painted it with daisies and let it get completely trampled in a local smash em up derby. 

Once married the cars my husband drove were company cars, he drove 3000 plus miles a month so he’d go through a car pretty darn fast, I have never known anyone to grind the carpet down to the metal with his heel. He was a master at road rage. He also set the seat really far back, he was tall, but if you looked at him from the outside the seat was so far back you could barely see him driving. Very strange.

While pregnant with my second child, I was driving the Cordoba – you know,  the car that Ricardo Montalban touted for it’s corinthian leather?  The hinge was falling apart on the drivers side door.  The door opened fine, but then it would kerplunk itself down and hang by a thread.  Do you have any idea how big those doors are ? One would have to straddle it to lift and align it to close. I was 9 months pregnant and straddling that damn door.  Or I would roll out the passenger door instead. When I think about this. It makes me really angry

When the door of the Cordoba finally fell off and gee since I was carting children around and all, my husband and his father went car shopping and bought this inexpensive stick shift thing, I have blocked this car from my memory because it was a god awful car. First of all it was a 2 door. I had 2 kids in car seats. Secondly I didn’t drive a stick shift. Seriously what were they thinking.  I was supposed to be grateful, but I wasn’t.  Not sure what happened to that vehicle, it’s the kindof car I would have loved to have found a way to leave in the path of a roaring semi 

I briefly then had a little Ford Probe, it was a way darling sporty dusty blue thing who’s little head lights popped up and down when you turned on the ignition. I was so delighted by those headlights I would turn my car on an off just to watch her blink, in my mind she really needed a set of false eyelashes on those headlights. This car also had a kick butt stereo in it – I felt very very cool in this car.  It was definitely not a mommy mobile. It  amazed me how it could make me feel so darn spiffy.  Unfortunately this car got totaled in my first and most horrific car accident, just weeks after getting her. I never got to name her.   

The car I had after that I never named. It was  a cheap, very ugly, I am doing you a favor by providing you with a car. It had huge oil stains on the carpet in the back. My husband said,  oh honey just cover that with a mat.  Don’t get me started. When I sold it to my brother for a sum of which he never paid, its wheels fell off and it went pigeon toed.  It’s actually a miracle that we didn’t all die driving around in that car. The daughter of a so called friend, had poked a hole in the ceiling fabric, she then proceed to pull at the hole tearing the entire length of the fabric from the rear of the car to the rear view mirror, that ceiling fabric flapped in the wind as I drove. No, I am not a hillbilly and no I did not kill the little girl.

The PRIDE MOBILE was a car I earned for free when I tripled my income while building my nutrition consulting business, it replaced the HICK MOBILE and was a huge shift for me. I had earned it. Worked hard for it. I was deserving.  I had surpassed the used car syndrome. When the brand new car arrived, the dealer called me and said “your ride with pride has arrived ”  I got to drive that car for free for 3 years. That was new car heaven and a very sweet smooth ride, the paint was this deep burgundy with flecks of gold. A real beauty

I currently drive a little compact pretty blue Chevy. Blue is my favorite color  When the lease was up on the pride mobile, my second husband and I decided to buy two compact cars.  Mine, I never named as it was supposed to go to my kids.   My thinking was first husband wasn’t on the fast track to making a decent living ( thus to pay less support ) therefore how would he provide cars?? Not knowing what the first ex would do to provide vehicles for our children.  I thought I should be prepared.  As it turns out each kid was provided a vehicle, so I am stuck with the pretty blue compact car.  My son’s car  has a zillion trillion miles on it and scares me. He uses it maybe once a week. Otherwise he rides his bike – and prefers that – god bless his earthy soul.  My daugher drives a Lincoln Town Car of all things.  I told her father he has to provide the gas for that beast – and it is beasty. I am astounded by the expense to fill the tank. Thankfully, her driving is a blessing. If I had to commute her I’d never have a life.

I called my second husbands compact car the SILVER FOX ( as he, my husband, had silver hair and was foxy – and his car was silver just like him ), until of course, he became my ex.  His car is still a silver fox.

My next car needs to be a vehicle that is more conducive to having a dog and hauling a college kid forth and back. Right now only 2 people – meaning humans, can sit in my compact car that has no name.  I have my eye on a Honda CRV – it’s got that back section that would be perfect for the dog, and still allows for  humans to sit in the back seat without getting covered with dog hair.  My Honda will be called Helen. Somehow I know this.

What have I learned from my automobiles ? Nothing really, they are a real pain and it’s fun to give them a name. I never realized I had so many! I had no idea how f
unny my es
capades with vehicles were.

Do you have a car character from the many chapters of your life? I’d love to hear about it

serious smash up derby flickr image credit

Karen Hanrahan ~ Wellness Educator/Nutritional Consultant/Blog Author
708.482.0678 ~ Websites: Nutrition Weight Loss, and Green Clean