Wow! Wasn’t the Metropolitan the car Lois Lane had in the Superman TV show? You don’t see many references to them.
My first car: 1968 Ford Galaxy 500. White with red interior. I distinctly recall having 10 people in my car at one time, and there was room for a few more if people scrunched up tight. It was the perfect car for a 16 year old boy: BIG, solid, safe, and pretty slow (at least at first - when you got it up to cruising speed it would roll on down the road). It had a really strange radio design, though. The whole thing was encased behind a piece of plastic in the dashboard and only the knobs and buttons stuck through - you coudln’t remove the radio without taking the whole frigging dashboard off. I slapped an 8 track tape player under the dash and was in Fat City.
I never went downtown because it was imposible to parrallel park the thing.
My first car was a 66 Pontiac Catalina. I inherited it from my brother. It had once been red, but had been outside so long it was faded to a strange pink color. I named it Smaug The Great And Terrible.
It was your typical lead sled, not great at acceleration, but once it got moving, get out of the way. It also could seat 6 people comfortably, and the back seat was big enough to lay down flat.
A most welcome feature for a hormonal teen.
It finally died from old age and abuse.
I still drive my first car. I didn’t get a car until I was 18. My parents gave me $500 for graduating from high school, and they hauled me down to the Ford place to help me get a car. I got a 1993 Ford Escort. Brand new, had 12 miles on it when I got it. Since then, I’ve put another 150,000 miles on it. The paperwork said it was strawberry red, so my mom used to call it Darryl. (The car has recurring problems, just as bad as Darryl Strawberry now. How funny.)
I have driven that car up and down most of the eastern coastline, from Ft. Lauderdale to New York City. I’ve gone to more concerts than I can count. It has been dubbed “The Freshcort” by my friends. I covered most of the back windshield in bumper stickers, but ended up taking them off when I let my sister drive it.
For a short (one year) period, I drove a 1991 Geo Storm. I loved that car. That was the first car I bought outright, and I drove it into its grave. It had 110,000 miles on it when I got it, but I really wanted this car. It was white, with blue interior, and a 5-speed. That was the first time I drove a car and really felt like I should be driving. It was a zippy little car, and I miss it. When it finally died, I had put 30,000 miles on it. Not bad for only paying $1000.
My first car was a 1989 Peugeot 205 (mine was steel blue). Incredibly fun to drive, and even though it only had a 1.4 engine, it hit 100 km/h in under 10 seconds. Quite nippy, really.
Yeah, I loved it. My sister bought one recently, and 2 minutes behind the wheel of it put a huge grin to my face again. Perhaps I should just stop being sensible, and finally buy a decent 205 GTI. These things kick SERIOUS ass.
My father was going to give me his old Topaz when I was 18. However, the day before he was going to drive it to me to give it to me, he totalled it in an accident. (Thank God, he was okay.)
My second car was a 1979 Dodge Diplomat station wagon. My wife named it “Bubula.” Bubula passed on from terminal transmission problems. We still miss her.
1962 Pontiac Catalina convertible, red on red. Paid $35 for it because it had an electrical short and the battery would not stay charged. But the car was very fast, 389, tri power carbs, floor shift automatic. Saw a similar car (everything the same except for the tri power) sell for over $12,000 at an auction a few years ago. My only problem was I got the car in October of 1972 when I turned 16 and sold it the following March. Never got to drive it with the top down, guess that is what you get for living in Washington state.
Sitting here reminiscing and having a Senior Moment…
My first car was a 1962 Dodge (can’t remember the model) that was a perfect college car. It had the big, swept-back fins common then, I paid all of $50 for it, and it was all rusted out. Both of the rear fenders had holes about a foot wide and 3 feet long; couldn’t keep anything in the trunk smaller than tires. The rear springs were shot and I dragged bumper all the time. I even managed to tear off the muffler and a foot of pipe once. The interior was…ummmm, well-used; but that was OK, because if anyone spilled a beer, all I had to do was get out the garden hose.
But it ran great!! Got good mileage, didn’t burn oil, and started up in the winter-time * likethat *. And, get this…it had a PUSH-BUTTON AUTOMATIC!!! Now, is that cool, or what?!
I eventually sold it for $100 (!!) to a junkyard. A couple of years later, I saw it being driven around town and followed the guy to a bowling alley. He said he bought it for $250 (!!!) and didn’t have any problems with it. We swapped stories and I left, feeling wistful.
Then a couple of years after THAT, I saw it again in a garage lot. I stopped to take a look…the (new) owner was taking out the windshield, in preparation for entry into a demolition derby!!
My first car was a 1972 VW Beetle with an automatic stick shift. It had a stick shift, but no clutch. When you wanted to shift, you just took your foot off the gas for a second and shifted. Weird.
Did I love it? Well, it got me where I wanted to go, and it had personality, if little else. No radio, no A/C, and the heating system basically dumped hot air at my feet. Winters were great: my left foot would be burning up, and the rest of me would be freezing, except for my right arm, which was busy shifting and wiping condensation from the windshield. Still, there are days when I miss that car.
Silver, atmomatic transmission, sunroof, power locks and windows, and air conditioning. All the essentials. Oh yeah, wheels too.
I got it about a month ago. It’s technically my first car, but it’s not quite as old as all your other cars.
Mine was a yellow 1990 Geo Metro convertible, which I bought used and ran until last October. She was affectionately known as “The Yellow Peril”, and, while she only had a 3-cylinder engine, she’d do 70 mph very happily and served me well. She’s also the car that taught me that yes, one part of the American dream is going down the highway on a summer down with the top down and a good rock and roll song on the radio. She was also the subject of endless jokes, but I loved her dearly.
Her successor is a new Hyundai, and I realized that this was the car I was intended to drive when it suddenly occurred to me that this Anglo-American translator of Japanese and German can honestly say she now has a Korean Accent.
[ducks and runs]
CJ
“Rock and roll dreams come true.”
My first car was a 96 cavalier. Bought it myself, with money earned slaving at Mickey D’s. I loved it. Polished it every weekend. Went to Florida for a week, left it parked in my driveway, never saw it in one piece again. My sister decided to “borrow” it, let her ex boyfriend drive, and he proceeded to crash it into a tree. Luckily insurance paid, so I was able to replace it. I like my Saturn almost as much.
Ah… a '86 Pontiac Grand Am. Black. Smelled vaguely of ages-old cigarette smoke (not mine), frequently broke down and left me stranded in unlikely places. And it had a good stereo, and when it went, it went fast. We called it ‘Die Fledermaus’ for no better reason but that we would watch ‘The Tick’ before brunch in the dorm.
I loved that car. I really, really, loved it. I just test drove a brand new car this week, but I didn’t feel the rush I felt when I test-drove that Grand Am for the first time.
A 1965 Plymouth Valiant, already ancient when I bought it, cream body, black vinyl roof. It had a simple, durable slant-6 engine even I could troubleshoot, with absolutely no knowledge of automotives but armed with a tattered owner’s manual and a used Chilton’s. I changed the oil, plugs, replaced parts, did body repair and loved the hell outta that car. It was named The Peanut.
It had black “leather” upholstery, cosy wings, controls and appointments that were genuinely elegant in their simplicity, and little trap doors at calf level for fresh air intakes. (They were perfect for cooling soft drinks.) We suited each other from the very first minute and then ran everywhere together, all over the country, in fact. Desert, mountain, city, snow, prarie and endless adventures, all of 'em rolled under the wheels. By the time The Peanut–very aptly named Valiant–finally wore out it’d run over 200,000 miles. When I finally had to be “adult” and let it go, I sat all night in the driver’s seat, crying my eyes out.
I bought a vintage Jaguar because it felt vaguely Peanut-ish in some aspects (which will probably horrify car nuts) and liked the car on its own merits but it just wasn’t the same. Ditto w/ some deliberate and coincidental great cars that were wonderful but just never fit quite right.
But…I just bought the first new car of my life. A nimble, plucky little CRV, champagne gold with black leather interior. We suit each other. It’s named The Peanut.
My first car was a 1974 Chevy Nova hatchback which I loved with all my heart. In fact i love and miss that car so much that I use the name i gave it as my screen name here on SD. Not a day goes by when i don’t regret selling that car. It was a gorgeous machine. Not to mention the power. And best of all, since it was a hatchback when you folded down the back seat there was the area the size of a full size bed in the back seat. I can’t tell you how many times that came in handy in high school. It was the most beautiful dark green you can imagine with black racing stripes trimmed in gold. Alright i have to stop talking about it now or I’m going to start crying.
Mine was a 68 jeep Wagoneer. Talk about a tank, man I loved that baby. 360 with three speed manual geared real low (which gave me about 10 miles or less to the gallon at highway speeds) pulled out at least 30 people over the 6 years I drove it and never got stuckonce my self. The bumpers were half inch steel and the rest was heavy as hell metal, never had one dent from all the crap it went through over the years. It started as kind of a candy apple red but by the time I got it it had faded into a rotten-carroty orange.
