Well, I wasn't sure whether the offical title of "First Car" applied to the first car I drove, or the first car I actually bought myself. I opted for the first one since it is forever burned in my memory. The only problem is that I really couldn't find a picture to do justice to the truck I drove after I first got my license.
When I turned sixteen, my parents graciously let me drive this old Chevy pickup truck that they had recently acquired from a late great-uncle. It was a '66 or '67 (I can't remember which. . . not being the autmobile guru then that I'm really not today). When we first got it, the truck was bright orange. And when I say bright, I mean burn your retinas bright orange. So my parents thought it would be a good idea to paint it.
Opting not to completely take away from its natural beauty, the only thing that was changed was a large white stripe that was painted down the sides of the truck. My parents just weren't sure that anything else would complement the green leather seats so well. I mean, really, can you blame them?
Now lest you think this vehicle was merely eye candy, let me describe for you some of its more endearing qualities. The steering wheel was about twice as big as me and had no power-steering. Trying to turn the brute helped me to acquire the bulging biceps so popular in high school girls. And it did indeed have an AM radio, so I could keep up on my talk radio and hillbilly stations. Not only that, but it usually only took one of my paychecks from Barry's Parkview Drive-In (the local fast-food joint) to fill up the gas tank.
But the best part about driving this truck was that it jingled. That's right, jingled. I was often mistaken for Santa by children from afar. I got a lot of old cookies thrown at me by pissed off kids when I drove by. Yeah, sure, it was festive during the holidays, but it just wasn't practical for everyday driving.
Yes, folks, overall it was the dream first car of any 16-year-old girl.
8 comments:
Wow, Jami -- your Chevy story beats my ('84, maybe?) Datsun 510 anyday as a 1st car. :)
Sorry to hear abt your computer problems; glad the 'new guy' is on his way. Still waiting to hear those quirks, by the way. :D
Nice! I drove a 3/4 ton Dodge Ram pickup when I was 16, just because it was the extra vehicle at our house. It was always funny to hop out of the truck and see how surprised people were that such a little girl was driving it. I actually had to put a pillow behind my back so I could reach the pedals because the bench seat wouldn't go up far enough!
How do I not remember this truck!? I thought you drove a navy bluish sedan of sorts. Boy, my memory is getting really terrible.
Amanda, that's hilarious! I can just see you driving a great big thing like that.
And Jen, I can't believe you don't remember the ol' truck. I only drove it that first year, and then the next year I got the dark blue Olds' (another classic) when it became the extra vehicle in the family. Cody inherited Big Orange.
Not to diminish your car "horror" story (as viewed by your 16 yr old eyes), but I believe my first car was far worse... It was a 1975 Datsun B210, the color was... well it looked like baby poop. When my parents pulled it out of my grandpa's shed down at his farm I wanted to die. My Dad told me it would build my character (whatever). Remember how cars used to have "window roller uppers" (I seriously don't know what you call them) that you had to turn by hand? Well my car only had ONE, so we kept it in the jockey box and passed it around as needed. The radio didn't really work and there was a hole in the floor by the back seat. AC??? Are you kidding, but at least it did have heat. My friends said that it was mesmerizing watching the street go by just inches from your feet (I'm sure we NEVER dropped anything out it). But really the worst part of all was that the key didn't work to start the car. The only way it could be started was by popping the hood and getting out my trusty screwdriver, reaching in and making sure to touch the metal part to two specific (yet separate) wires at the same time and somehow the car would then magically start running. I DREADED gas stations because I just knew everyone was staring at me when I did this. I contemplated parking several blocks from the highschool, but my laziness got the better of me and I opted to late arrivals and even later departures from school. Despite all this, I did survive highschool and I guess I do consider it a "character building" experience in hindsight. Thanks for the walk down memory lane!
I can't believe how big your girls have gotten!! Your blog is great!! =0) It's nice to see how y'all are doing!!! =0)
Ah, Barry's. [Sigh]
Those were the good old days of driving down to B's Parkview in the white 1980 Ford Grenada for french fries and an oreo shake.
First off, I just have to say that I loved that truck. I cried when Mom and Dad decided that it wasn't economical to fill up at every city between here and Enterprise. I remember one time I was talking to Grandpa T about the truck and how we were having problems with the fuel pump because we were only getting 6 miles/gallon. He told me he thought the fuel pump was working a little too well.
Don't you remember when Mom and Dad replaced the crayon green leather seats with avacado green short shag. My favorite part of that truck was that it was an old farm truck complete with old farms smells. Everytime I checked under the seats I found remnants of animal carcasses and gun shells. I am sure that the gun rack went a long way with your boyfriends though. I used to put broom sticks and other long skinny things so that the gun rack didn't look like a bare christmas tree.
Oh well. I wished you could have found a photo to post.
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