The first car I ever drove was an '86 Honda Accord, white, followed by an '87 Honda Accord, wedgewood blue. They both ended up as rusting hulks behind the shed; they both belonged to my dad; they both were driven by me when I was 13 years old… they are collectively known as The Honda, despite the fact that there were two of them. They both had holes in the floor where the passenger is meant to put his/her feet. You had to lift your feet up when we went through a puddle, or your pants would get drenched from mid-calf down.
My first car was a 1986 Subaru GL 4-door sedan, black. Nicknamed “The Bee” – Subaru = Subee = The Bee, get it? Cost me fifty bucks out-of-pocket. I had to replace the brake lines but after that it ran just fine for about six months. Then one day I was driving it to work and it started pouring out thick blue smoke and little bits of flame. We took it home and drove my mom’s minivan to work that day. My dad’s buddy bought it off us for $100 and now it’s enjoying a modestly successful life as a dirt-track racer. It’ll probably go demo derby this summer, though. Bye-bye, Bee.
My current car is an '87 or '88 (sorry, I can’t remember right now) Chevy Cavalier Z-24, black. Digital dashboard, so I gave it the (very presumptuous) name of Kitt… like the Ryder Industries 5000 on Knight Rider. It’s also known as The Chevalier because I always stumble over “Chevy Cavalier” to the point that it has become one word. Right now it only has one side-view mirror… on the passenger side… because I got sideswiped by a guy named something along the lines of Felcher Buttock. I love that car. I would have killed Felcher if he’d done anything other than superficial damage to my Kitt.