My car has a name (1995 Nissan Altima): Amadeus. I know I’m not the only one because a girl I go to school work named her car “Retro Bob.”
My '97 Ford Escort LX is named the Fly Me Courageous IV. The original and second were my old skateboards, while the rest have been my cars. Fly Me Courageous (title taken from a Drivin & Cryin song I used to perform) is the all inclusive name for my primary mode of transport.
My '86 Camry is Uncle Miltie (long story)
My '84 Jeep J-10 is Margie (after my first kayak, which was named after Margie in Fargo)
My '98 Outback was Eddy. He was squashed a few months ago. We just got an '01 Outback to replace him, but he doesn’t have a name yet. I figure one will come in time.
My present car (and I use that term loosely) is not named. It really hasn’t earned it. Plus, it’s kinda blah. It runs, but it’s nothing to write the folks back home about.
I do, however, possess a 1968 Chevelle Malibu, and I named her the day I bought her. She’s Justine. Lean, mean, screaming machine.
She didn’t earn her name, either. She was born, um, built with it!
I usually call my car Peugeot 306. That’s what her breeders papers say, anyway.
My last two cars have been ‘work cars’, just little beaters to get me around but not much to look at. They have both been dubbed ‘Go-bot’ because it sounds like a gokart put together by ambitious but underqualified teenagers :).
I used to have a 1981 Toyota Corolla wagon with the license plate number 1GLA549. Because of this license plate, I named her “GLAdys.”
My dad used to have a 1986 Dodge van, whom he named “Bessie.” Probably because it served as the family “bus.”
It was my father’s contention that certain cars, trucks, etc. have souls. Those are the ones you name. The soulless ones (the average cars with no personalities) don’t need names.
I have had both types of cars.
“Sheila” the 1973 former National Park Service Plymouth Station Wagon. She was a slut. Everybody had slept with her (during my skibumming days a herd of us would park her in the ski area parking lots and sleep there using her as something of a motel on wheels) but she gave as sweet a ride as you could wish and never complained.
“Bess the Bus” the 1969 Volkswagon Bus. Named after Davy Crocket’s dependable long rifle.
“Ol’ Red” in other threads I have mentioned my Satan (not Brian) possessed 1963 VW Bug that I unsuccessfully had exorcised by a Church of Life minister. It had a soul, an evil one, but it had a soul.
“Charlotte the Chevy” a dreamboat of a 1956 Chevy Belair. She was truly a rugged and attractive little lady.
“Li’l Blue” a 1992 Geo Tracker that will go anywhere if asked to.
I called my '69 Dodge Coronet “The Floating Power,” from one of Stymie Beard’s famous quotes.
And as for. . .
Of course. It’s well documented.
My car is named Lorelei. The name comes from a German legend of a girl who sang to sailors on the Rhine and made them crash their ships.
I thought it was an appropriate name for a car with a computer in it for playing music.
In my family, we name cars when they hit 100,000 miles. My last car was named Lucy. My current car is about a year away from the naming ceremony.
“The Pimp Mobile”
85 Caddy bought from, well let’s just say the name is authentic.
My whole family names the cars.
Its a process too.
You have to look at the car, study it and the first name that pops in your head, thats the chosen name.
Dulce Maude is the Astro
Cecelia is the Honda Accord
Lola is the Corrola
Lucille is the Mazda
and Prince Jerome is the Toyota Truck.
We address them as such too.
My first car was an '86 Subaru GL, called “The Bee” (Subaru = Subee = Bee, right?).
Currently I drive a black '88 Cavalier Z24 named Kitt.
My mom has no imagination, so she never named her van.
Dad’s Ford Ranger pickup was named Ranger Danger, because of the way Dad drives and several perilous encounters with deer and other objects (Ranger Danger was a bit part on FOX TV a while back, at least around here), but he just traded that one in for a 2001 Chevy S10 that has no name yet.
My '82 Volvo 760 GLE was named The Invincible Deliverator It’s frame was amazingly resistant and resilient. Too bad the steering wasn’t as long-lived.
My current car, a '94 Ford Taurus, I christened ‘Catastrophe’
The theory being that if you give something valuable a negative name–you can ‘trick’ Fate into thinking that it’s not worth of ruining for you. Which makes it less likely to be damaged/stolen/broken/etc.
My last car, a black Cavalier, was named The Stealth Car. I have a new red Saturn, but it hasn’t been named yet.
I named my '01 Dodge Intrepid “The Silver Bullet”, which is also my CB handle.
“Silver” for its nice, silver-metallic paint job;
“Bullet” because, compared to my Jeep, which I traded in for it, it goes much faster, so I drive it “like a speeding bullet stuck in the ass of a bat-out-of-hell” on the open highway.
My car a 91 Grand Am was aptly named E.L. To cut a long story short I was driving home from college and these people were these two people going 50 mph an hour side by side on a 2 lane highway. I gets fed up with it after a half mile or so drop back about 3 car lengths floor it hit about 75 pass them in a gravel covered emergency lane and fishtail for a bit then pass them. Kept it floored because a cop was on the other side of the road. Well about 3 minutes and 5 miles later I pulled over and the friend who was following stopped and asked why the hell I did that. Ever since my car has been called Emergency Lane thus the E.L.
I just call them “the Jeep” and “the Nova”. racinchikki named the Nova “The EcruNova” (ecru = off-white/beigey-type color).
My lovable and green 1997 Volkswagen Golf is named Olaf, after the goaltender for the Washington Caps, Olaf Kolzig.
My previous car, a red 1991 Mazda Protege, was named Romeo after a particularly kind Physics professor in college who passed me when I didn’t deserve to pass.
My first car, a brown 1984 Toyota Cressida Wagon was called The Magic Bus for the number of people I could carry in it to and from high school.