4. She felt it would be a good car for me to learn to drive on. The perfect 'starter' car. You couldn't get into the passenger side, you had to slide across the driver's side. It had a bench seat in the front, and it took all of the strength of my sister and I to pull the seat up after Dad drove it. The car was a bomb. And I don't mean bomb in a good way! I called her (our cars are always girls, I don't know why) 'Bertha the Bomb'. Mom would not let me take my driving test on this car. She was afraid the instructor would deduct points for the car. When they had a layoff at Dad's work and he bumped back into the shop one summer, Dad drove Bertha to work. She lost the muffler going over the mountain one morning. Dad cut the seatbelts out of the backseat and tied the muffler together with the seatbelts. Which meant I could only have one person in the car with me- in the front seat. Most of the times, the carburetor flooded when you tried to start it. If I had to stop at a stop sign or red light, it stalled. One time, the only way to get it in gear was to put it in reverse, so I drove in reverse through town back home (good thing it was a small town!). Oh, I hated that car! I did not have Bertha long, and my parents wouldn't let me drive to school often.
In November, 1992, Mom decided to get a new car. She bought a 1993 Ford Taurus Wagon, and gave the 1988 Taurus Wagon to me. In 1995, after my first year of college, they titled the old wagon to me and I took it to Indiana. The car had about 100,000 miles on it (maybe more) when I took it in 1995, when I got rid of it, she had 172,000 miles. Once the Taurus was mine, I named her 'Olde Faithful'. Because she was. She was dependable, sturdy, and you could haul anything in that wagon! The wagon was navy blue, at Dad's request. Prior to the 1988 Taurus, we had Dodges. Mom convinced Dad to go to Ford (her parents always drove Fords) and Dad's one request was to have a blue car. When Mom had the 88 Taurus, she had vanity plates (personalized license plates) with our last name on them. Our friends referred to the car as 'The Primeau-mobile'.
I loved Olde Faithful so much that when I had to replace her, I looked at a station wagon. I was 24 years old, buying my first new car, and I wanted a station wagon. I went to the Ford dealer in town and looked at the Focus. They didn't have a single wagon on the lot, and I couldn't wait. Olde Faithful was dying quickly, I needed a vehicle. So I settled on a four door sedan, in a pretty emerald green. The Focus became known as 'Lil' Green' . At first, I loved the sportiness of Lil' Green. She was peppy and sassy and cheap on gas. Then the recalls started. I had so many problems with that car that I was counting down the months until it was paid off so I could buy a different vehicle. It also turned me away from Ford. And while the car was a little sporty and cute, I also got tired of buying something big at the store and asking them to hold it until Erich could come with the minivan to pick it up.
Lil' Green was still running, so I took more time selecting my next vehicle. When I bought Lil' Green, the salesman talked to Erich, even though Erich told him 'she's buying it'. Erich is not your typical male. He is not the car person. In fact, of the two of us, I am the car person. So when I went shopping the next time, I didn't even take Erich. I did my research ahead of time, went to a car show and narrowed my options, and then went to the Toyota dealer. At the first dealer, I test drove a Rav4 that was loaded. I loved the car, but didn't need one with all those bells and whistles. The salesman would not listen to me, that I wanted a less souped up model. They also offered me pittance for my trade-in. I thanked him for his time, shook his hand (many thanks to Dad for teaching me to have a strong handshake even though I'm a female) and left. That was a Saturday. The next day I drove to another dealership in Cincinnati to test drive the Matrix, because I still hadn't settled on the Rav yet. I drove the Matrix and hated it. I wanted to make a deal on a Rav. But the salesman there wouldn't even talk to me about a Rav. And again, the amount they offered for my Focus was insulting. I knew how much I should get for the Focus. Once again I found myself shaking hands, saying thank you, and walking out the door. I was going to go home and I heard an ad on the radio for yet another dealer. I was most of the way there anyway, so I drove the few extra miles into Northern Kentucky. By this point, I knew what I wanted. I wanted a Blue Rav4 with four wheel drive, and I knew what I wanted for my trade. I walked in, and told the salesman I wasn't going to talk deal until they told me what they'd give me for my trade. Sometimes I wonder where this woman came from! I was so determined and confident. They looked at my trade, drove it, and gave me the amount I was hoping for. I knew we had a deal then! The dealer didn't have any blue Ravs in stock, but they assured me they could find me one. I made it a little easier for them and said I wouldn't care if it was Pacific Blue (the lighter blue) or Navy Blue. It took them about three weeks, but they found one. I didn't know what color my new car was until I arrived at the dealership to sign the papers. Turns out it was the Pacific Blue. While it seems like everyone (including my own parents) now have one just like it, I know I am far happier with this one than the Navy.
My Rav is named 'Blue Baby'. I know, I'm getting less original with the names. We've gone from Bertha the Bomb and Olde Faithful to Lil' Green and Blue Baby. I'm not a diehard car naming person (or my cars would have much more spectacular names), but somehow they always end up with a name. Although I will say, Blue Baby is a little confusing, because sometimes Cobalt thinks I'm talking about him.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
A Year of Blogging: October 2, 2011
October 2 was 'Name Your Car' day. I admit, I am a person who names her cars. I don't know why. My parents don't name their cars. If the car is acting up, or you're trying to negotiate slippery roads, they might say 'come on girl'. But they don't actually name their cars.
I am on my fourth car. My first car was a 1981 Ford. The logo on the back of the car said it was a Futura, but on the side it said Fairmont. So I'm not sure what it was. It had been t-boned on the passenger's side and not completely repaired. My mother bought it for $900 when I was 1
4. She felt it would be a good car for me to learn to drive on. The perfect 'starter' car. You couldn't get into the passenger side, you had to slide across the driver's side. It had a bench seat in the front, and it took all of the strength of my sister and I to pull the seat up after Dad drove it. The car was a bomb. And I don't mean bomb in a good way! I called her (our cars are always girls, I don't know why) 'Bertha the Bomb'. Mom would not let me take my driving test on this car. She was afraid the instructor would deduct points for the car. When they had a layoff at Dad's work and he bumped back into the shop one summer, Dad drove Bertha to work. She lost the muffler going over the mountain one morning. Dad cut the seatbelts out of the backseat and tied the muffler together with the seatbelts. Which meant I could only have one person in the car with me- in the front seat. Most of the times, the carburetor flooded when you tried to start it. If I had to stop at a stop sign or red light, it stalled. One time, the only way to get it in gear was to put it in reverse, so I drove in reverse through town back home (good thing it was a small town!). Oh, I hated that car! I did not have Bertha long, and my parents wouldn't let me drive to school often.
In November, 1992, Mom decided to get a new car. She bought a 1993 Ford Taurus Wagon, and gave the 1988 Taurus Wagon to me. In 1995, after my first year of college, they titled the old wagon to me and I took it to Indiana. The car had about 100,000 miles on it (maybe more) when I took it in 1995, when I got rid of it, she had 172,000 miles. Once the Taurus was mine, I named her 'Olde Faithful'. Because she was. She was dependable, sturdy, and you could haul anything in that wagon! The wagon was navy blue, at Dad's request. Prior to the 1988 Taurus, we had Dodges. Mom convinced Dad to go to Ford (her parents always drove Fords) and Dad's one request was to have a blue car. When Mom had the 88 Taurus, she had vanity plates (personalized license plates) with our last name on them. Our friends referred to the car as 'The Primeau-mobile'.
I loved Olde Faithful so much that when I had to replace her, I looked at a station wagon. I was 24 years old, buying my first new car, and I wanted a station wagon. I went to the Ford dealer in town and looked at the Focus. They didn't have a single wagon on the lot, and I couldn't wait. Olde Faithful was dying quickly, I needed a vehicle. So I settled on a four door sedan, in a pretty emerald green. The Focus became known as 'Lil' Green' . At first, I loved the sportiness of Lil' Green. She was peppy and sassy and cheap on gas. Then the recalls started. I had so many problems with that car that I was counting down the months until it was paid off so I could buy a different vehicle. It also turned me away from Ford. And while the car was a little sporty and cute, I also got tired of buying something big at the store and asking them to hold it until Erich could come with the minivan to pick it up.
Lil' Green was still running, so I took more time selecting my next vehicle. When I bought Lil' Green, the salesman talked to Erich, even though Erich told him 'she's buying it'. Erich is not your typical male. He is not the car person. In fact, of the two of us, I am the car person. So when I went shopping the next time, I didn't even take Erich. I did my research ahead of time, went to a car show and narrowed my options, and then went to the Toyota dealer. At the first dealer, I test drove a Rav4 that was loaded. I loved the car, but didn't need one with all those bells and whistles. The salesman would not listen to me, that I wanted a less souped up model. They also offered me pittance for my trade-in. I thanked him for his time, shook his hand (many thanks to Dad for teaching me to have a strong handshake even though I'm a female) and left. That was a Saturday. The next day I drove to another dealership in Cincinnati to test drive the Matrix, because I still hadn't settled on the Rav yet. I drove the Matrix and hated it. I wanted to make a deal on a Rav. But the salesman there wouldn't even talk to me about a Rav. And again, the amount they offered for my Focus was insulting. I knew how much I should get for the Focus. Once again I found myself shaking hands, saying thank you, and walking out the door. I was going to go home and I heard an ad on the radio for yet another dealer. I was most of the way there anyway, so I drove the few extra miles into Northern Kentucky. By this point, I knew what I wanted. I wanted a Blue Rav4 with four wheel drive, and I knew what I wanted for my trade. I walked in, and told the salesman I wasn't going to talk deal until they told me what they'd give me for my trade. Sometimes I wonder where this woman came from! I was so determined and confident. They looked at my trade, drove it, and gave me the amount I was hoping for. I knew we had a deal then! The dealer didn't have any blue Ravs in stock, but they assured me they could find me one. I made it a little easier for them and said I wouldn't care if it was Pacific Blue (the lighter blue) or Navy Blue. It took them about three weeks, but they found one. I didn't know what color my new car was until I arrived at the dealership to sign the papers. Turns out it was the Pacific Blue. While it seems like everyone (including my own parents) now have one just like it, I know I am far happier with this one than the Navy.
My Rav is named 'Blue Baby'. I know, I'm getting less original with the names. We've gone from Bertha the Bomb and Olde Faithful to Lil' Green and Blue Baby. I'm not a diehard car naming person (or my cars would have much more spectacular names), but somehow they always end up with a name. Although I will say, Blue Baby is a little confusing, because sometimes Cobalt thinks I'm talking about him.
4. She felt it would be a good car for me to learn to drive on. The perfect 'starter' car. You couldn't get into the passenger side, you had to slide across the driver's side. It had a bench seat in the front, and it took all of the strength of my sister and I to pull the seat up after Dad drove it. The car was a bomb. And I don't mean bomb in a good way! I called her (our cars are always girls, I don't know why) 'Bertha the Bomb'. Mom would not let me take my driving test on this car. She was afraid the instructor would deduct points for the car. When they had a layoff at Dad's work and he bumped back into the shop one summer, Dad drove Bertha to work. She lost the muffler going over the mountain one morning. Dad cut the seatbelts out of the backseat and tied the muffler together with the seatbelts. Which meant I could only have one person in the car with me- in the front seat. Most of the times, the carburetor flooded when you tried to start it. If I had to stop at a stop sign or red light, it stalled. One time, the only way to get it in gear was to put it in reverse, so I drove in reverse through town back home (good thing it was a small town!). Oh, I hated that car! I did not have Bertha long, and my parents wouldn't let me drive to school often.
In November, 1992, Mom decided to get a new car. She bought a 1993 Ford Taurus Wagon, and gave the 1988 Taurus Wagon to me. In 1995, after my first year of college, they titled the old wagon to me and I took it to Indiana. The car had about 100,000 miles on it (maybe more) when I took it in 1995, when I got rid of it, she had 172,000 miles. Once the Taurus was mine, I named her 'Olde Faithful'. Because she was. She was dependable, sturdy, and you could haul anything in that wagon! The wagon was navy blue, at Dad's request. Prior to the 1988 Taurus, we had Dodges. Mom convinced Dad to go to Ford (her parents always drove Fords) and Dad's one request was to have a blue car. When Mom had the 88 Taurus, she had vanity plates (personalized license plates) with our last name on them. Our friends referred to the car as 'The Primeau-mobile'.
I loved Olde Faithful so much that when I had to replace her, I looked at a station wagon. I was 24 years old, buying my first new car, and I wanted a station wagon. I went to the Ford dealer in town and looked at the Focus. They didn't have a single wagon on the lot, and I couldn't wait. Olde Faithful was dying quickly, I needed a vehicle. So I settled on a four door sedan, in a pretty emerald green. The Focus became known as 'Lil' Green' . At first, I loved the sportiness of Lil' Green. She was peppy and sassy and cheap on gas. Then the recalls started. I had so many problems with that car that I was counting down the months until it was paid off so I could buy a different vehicle. It also turned me away from Ford. And while the car was a little sporty and cute, I also got tired of buying something big at the store and asking them to hold it until Erich could come with the minivan to pick it up.
Lil' Green was still running, so I took more time selecting my next vehicle. When I bought Lil' Green, the salesman talked to Erich, even though Erich told him 'she's buying it'. Erich is not your typical male. He is not the car person. In fact, of the two of us, I am the car person. So when I went shopping the next time, I didn't even take Erich. I did my research ahead of time, went to a car show and narrowed my options, and then went to the Toyota dealer. At the first dealer, I test drove a Rav4 that was loaded. I loved the car, but didn't need one with all those bells and whistles. The salesman would not listen to me, that I wanted a less souped up model. They also offered me pittance for my trade-in. I thanked him for his time, shook his hand (many thanks to Dad for teaching me to have a strong handshake even though I'm a female) and left. That was a Saturday. The next day I drove to another dealership in Cincinnati to test drive the Matrix, because I still hadn't settled on the Rav yet. I drove the Matrix and hated it. I wanted to make a deal on a Rav. But the salesman there wouldn't even talk to me about a Rav. And again, the amount they offered for my Focus was insulting. I knew how much I should get for the Focus. Once again I found myself shaking hands, saying thank you, and walking out the door. I was going to go home and I heard an ad on the radio for yet another dealer. I was most of the way there anyway, so I drove the few extra miles into Northern Kentucky. By this point, I knew what I wanted. I wanted a Blue Rav4 with four wheel drive, and I knew what I wanted for my trade. I walked in, and told the salesman I wasn't going to talk deal until they told me what they'd give me for my trade. Sometimes I wonder where this woman came from! I was so determined and confident. They looked at my trade, drove it, and gave me the amount I was hoping for. I knew we had a deal then! The dealer didn't have any blue Ravs in stock, but they assured me they could find me one. I made it a little easier for them and said I wouldn't care if it was Pacific Blue (the lighter blue) or Navy Blue. It took them about three weeks, but they found one. I didn't know what color my new car was until I arrived at the dealership to sign the papers. Turns out it was the Pacific Blue. While it seems like everyone (including my own parents) now have one just like it, I know I am far happier with this one than the Navy.
My Rav is named 'Blue Baby'. I know, I'm getting less original with the names. We've gone from Bertha the Bomb and Olde Faithful to Lil' Green and Blue Baby. I'm not a diehard car naming person (or my cars would have much more spectacular names), but somehow they always end up with a name. Although I will say, Blue Baby is a little confusing, because sometimes Cobalt thinks I'm talking about him.
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