Classic Cars

My employer’s car alarm began cycling on and off at two o’clock this morning and would not shut off. This would not be a problem except that the car is parked in her business partner’s driveway and they are together in Italy. So I was left to find an extra key and disarm the thing which started me thinking about all of the cars I and my family has had in the past.

The first auto tragedy was when we lived in the ratty apartments mentioned in my previous entry. My father was a law student and my mother was supporting us on the salary she made as a dental assistant. Nice cars were not a luxury we could afford. We had a Torino. Most people reading this have probably never heard of a Torino. Alas at one time we owned a classic. Ours unfortunately was also a lemon. When my father went to start it one morning the engine burst into flames. Quick thinker that he is he ran into the apartment to fetch a pitcher of water. I am sure the fire department appreciated his effort.

The Torino was replaced by a Cutlass. Now, before we go any further it is important to know that my father cannot hold onto money. He is a dreamer and a spender. Always with the best of intentions but as I mentioned we were poor so no matter the intentions whatever it was we couldn’t afford it. So he bought my mother a pony for mother’s day while we were still living in an apartment. A horse has to eat so my parents hauled a bag of feed to the stable. The bag split and they spilled on the back floorboards. My father is also not one to clean up after himself so a half-hearted effort to remove the feed was made. Back to the Cutlass. The roof leaked so when it would rain the back floor boards would be underwater sloshing on every turn. Eventually the floor boards dried but the end result of the water/oat combination was a nice carpet of green that you didn’t even have to leave the car to walk barefoot through.

When my parents divorced I was eight. It was agreed that my mother and I would drive from Louisiana to New Jersey to stay with my uncle until my father finished school. We filled the car with as much as possible and set out for the Northeast. This must have been an awful time for my mother but she tried to keep things upbeat. She did however chain smoke her way out of town putting each cigarette out in the ashtray no less. One day driving along she put one too many in that ashtray and whole thing caught on fire. We pulled into a convenient store and my mother asked me to go inside and get a glass of water. Actually she screamed it in panic. Not one to stay calm cool and collected. I ran into the store announcing to the clerk that our car was on fire. By the time I ran out of the store clerk in tow my mother had removed the blazing ashtray and dumped its contents in the parking lot so she could stamp them out.

I feel bad for people whose parents had new wood paneled station wagons and shiny Cadillac’s. Look at the excitement they missed.