Copyrights reserved by the author. If you are in doubt, please click on 'Copyrights' and read the details.The cars of our past as a history of our lives By J. G. Fabiano There are two major purchases we make in life that change what we are or try to represent. The most expensive of these purchases has to do with our home, some of us do this many times while others, like me, do it once or twice. The second purchase that defines who we are is the purchase of an automobile. A few weeks ago I bought my third Toyota Tacoma. I really didn't buy it because I leased it. This is a good thing for me because I don't put on a lot of miles and after the lease time I never have to pay for going over the mileage limit. Plus it allows me to have a new truck every four years and not have to worry about replacement tires or repairs. While I was waiting for the paperwork to be completed I started to think about all the cars I had in my life. I also related the cars to what I was during that specific time of my existence. The first car I remember owning was a pale yellow 1961, Ford Fairlane. I actually didn't own it but took it over from my mother during the latter part of my high school career. It was a great car. It had wide fins and chrome that made it look like a space ship. When I started driving it the car was pristine. After a year it degraded into a beat up old manure box of rusting steel. I guess this is what happens when one is given a car instead of having to pay for it. The inside of the car looked worse than the outside. I remember a time my father had to borrow it to go to the store. I forgot to tell him a 2x4 was holding the seat in place. My father pulled it out and was immediately lying down looking at the ceiling of the car. This would not have been a problem if he wasn't driving down the road. I am happy to say no one was hurt but for the rest of my life he reminds me of this particular time of my life. The one thing I will always remember about this car was when I met my guardian angel. I was traveling down to Cape Cod with surf boards on the roof. I was speeding at a good clip when all of a sudden the car started to float. All I could see was a bridge in front of me getting closer. The closer I got the less control I had of the car. Then by some miracle the car caught the road and I breezed past what I thought was where my final seconds would be. Every time I think of that moment I shiver. Every time I want to do something stupid I also think of that moment in time. My first purchased car that was a 1962, Rambler. It had a flat head six for an engine that traveled more than 300 miles. Back then you could buy a car that would rot away long before the engine would give out. The basic problem with the car was it stalled at the most inopportune times. Once in the middle of Route 95 during a snow storm in Worcester, MA. Back then you could thumb your way out of trouble. I tried to fix the car with an electric fuel pump I placed in the trunk of my car. Later I was told it was a miracle I did not blow myself up but, then again, it is a miracle I am still around to tell my tales. I, like everyone else in my generation, evolved into a Volkswagen beetle. Mine was tan in color and had a huge dent in one of the doors. I did not produce the ding but I got a great deal on the car because of it. I loved that car. It got me where I wanted to go even though I had to drive fast down a hill in order to get up the next one. It was great on gas but didn't believe in heat. Many times I had to use my hands in order to melt the ice that was on the inside of the windshield. The first new car I bought was right before I got married. It was a brand new Chevrolet Vega. History has proven it was one of the most unsafe American cars ever built. I didn't have the time to prove how unsafe it was because the first week I had it another car ran a red light and smashed into the right fender of the car. By some miracle I wasn't hurt but had to wait over a month to get my not-so-new car back. The oddest part of this story was one week later I parked it in front of my future wife's home. Around three in the morning a large supped up monstrosity smashed into it, catapulted it into another car, which then smashed into a third car. Needless to say my life with my Vega then ended. I guess that guardian angel decided to show up once again. Since it was now the late 1970's and it was cool to own and drive a 'hot' car I bought a used Camaro. Originally it was bright yellow and since I did not want to look like a pimp I had it painted dark blue. I loved that car until it decided to break down at least once a week. Since I was getting old, had my first child, and was becoming an active member of the middle class I decided to trade it in for an Audi 4000. This was a great car that proved to the world how successful I was. The only problem was it took more than a week's pay to maintain it. This trek into 'yuppie land' soon evolved into a Mitsubishi Red Van. In fact, my wife and I became a Mitsubishi family because we also bought a Gallant. During the early to mid-1980 these vehicles represented class. They were also purchased at a time when my ego outstripped my intelligence. The great recession of the 80's surprised many of us. It also forced us into purchasing a more economic means of travel. The Hyundai's of our lives became a symbol for how hard it was to survive those times. My favorite story has to do with these cars. At first, when we drove the cars home I didn't see any change in my wife. I assumed the loss of a luxury car was not a threat to her psychological well being: boy was I ever wrong. I first saw a change when I noticed she never opened the shades over the windows of our house. When I asked why, she just looked at me blankly. Then, when I opened the shades, I noticed she usually left the room. Strangeness had come to the Fabiano family. The first year was the worst. Once, when we met some friends for dinner, she made me park as far away from the restaurant as possible. This seemed strange to me, especially since it was the middle of January. After dinner, to my wife's chagrin, we all walked back to the same parking lot. We walked up to their BMW and stood there until it was obvious they had driven out of sight. Humbly, we walked back to our shame. Another time we were invited to a party and my wife again made me park our car at the end of the driveway and wait until no one was around to see us exit. Considering the driveway was filled with Mercedes, Volvos, and one Rolls-Royce, I agreed with my wife's strategy. The party went along fine, until around 11:30, when the host asked that the owner of the Hy-Un-Dai please pull toward the side of the driveway so that someone could leave. Naturally, it was the owner of the Rolls. Today it is interesting in that Hyundai cars have become part of the norm. I had many cars that represented who I was during the adult decades of my life. Some were better than others and some are relegated into being some of the stupider purchases of my life but, whatever they were, they had a tendency to mirror my time at that particular point of my life. In the future I hope horses do not come back into Vogue. The End.
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