Thrill of first car fondly recalled
Who doesn’t remember his first car? I used to think that enjoying, pampering, driving, etc., cars and other motorized vehicles was a guy thing.
I mean, most men will get misty-eyed when you ask them about their first real ride: car, truck, motorcycle. They will describe it in terms that make it sound more like the first female love of their life – which, in some cases, might be true.
And, they will tell you it was one sweet ride, nostalgia masking any flaws or defects that hunk of machinery might have had.
For example, I recall my first car with fondness, a 1965 Chevrolet Corvair Monza Spyder convertible, completely forgetting the four flat tires I had to change in the first month of owning it; forgetting the chronic transmission leak that no one could fix that eventually left me stranded on the Ohio Turnpike in the middle of a snow storm; forgetting that with the air-cooled motor it provided no heat during the frigid drives in winter; forgetting that the turbo-charger on the engine never worked properly, and forgetting a host of other annoyances that kept me financially broke.
Ah, but the things that were good about it: Nothing like riding around with the top down; with a rear-mounted engine it was like a tank in snow; it’s shiny black leather/vinyl interior was so sharp; and, of course, the young ladies who rode shotgun on countless dates.
I was so besotted with that car that before I got the license plate for it I sat in it in the garage while quietly singing the Chevrolet theme song (“See the USA in your Chevrolet+”).
There have been many cars over the past four decades but none will hold a spot in my heart like that first one.
Like I said: I always thought this was a guy thing.
It surprised me that our 18-year-old friend Kendra acted very similarly when she recently acquired her first ride. She recently acquired a gently-used SUV.
The first thing she did was clean it inside and out. Then she bought a special chrome license plate holder with paw prints on it in honor of her dog. She also bought floral seat covers and one of those cardboard pine tree smelly things (her’s is lilac-scented) you hang from the rear-view mirror.
After laying out bucks for insurance (very expensive for a teen driver) she learned the vehicle needed some repairs and replacements. A professional mechanic had to do some of the work at a local garage. But her dad installed new brake shoes. She was so dismayed during the time it was out of service she would sit in it to comfort herself.
It has become her pride and joy.
After spending all that money on insurance, personalizing her SUV and making sure it’s operating correctly she learned another truth as a first-time owner: Cars run on gas and gas is expensive.
Until she finds some money for fuel, she can still sit in it. And, maybe, sing quietly to herself the maker’s theme song.
Welcome to the wonderful world of car ownership.
Have a good day.
James Pletcher Jr. is Herald-Standard business editor. He can be reached at 724-439-7571 or by e-mail at jpletcher@heraldstandard.com
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