Or motorcycle. Or major mode of transportation; if that was a plane, wahooo!
Mine was an old Chevy station wagon. It was uuuuugly! Puke green, extra seat in the back, and, apparantly, a radiator from a Ford Escort, which had me filling the radiator every 40 miles or so. I would fold down the seats and throw a mattress in there, sleep overnight somewhere rather than drive home and back sometimes.
I had the name ‘SHAMELESS’ put on the back, 'cause I just didn’t care how it looked, or even that it really was a POS; it never let me down. Once, when I went down a dead end road, the road was so narrow and the car so damned BIG that when I tried to turn around, I ended up in the ditch; dang car went right through the fence. And right back up and out again, still on time for work. Station wagons CAN go offroad!
When I finally sold it, it was to a taxi company; they liked the fact that it could hold so much, and for some reason the fact that there was a heavy-ass SKID PLATE on the bottom tickled the guy’s fancy. I paid 400 for it, got 200 back out of it, and at the end was encouraged by many friends to enter it in the local racetrack’s demolition derby. I am quite sure that it would have obliterated anyone else on the field.
My first car was a 1967 Oldsmobile F-85 Deluxe. Dad bought a pair of them from an older couple who were moving south. They were 15 yrs old when he got them. They had under 100,000 miles each and the interior was showroom new. They were however the most horrendous colours of green (mine) and brown (spare) that exists. I was much less gentle than their previous owner but it lasted just fine until I left for basic training. While I was gone dad sold the pair of them and I bought a … um… well it was white car when I was posted in Ottawa.
My first car was a used 1981 silver Mustang. It had a straight-six motor in it and burned copious amounts of oil. It was an OK car for a teenager. My friends that had cooler cars than me used to tease me about it being such a dog, and I went out and found “5.0” badges for it and put them on the car, but it didn’t fool anyone.
My current car: a silver 2008 Mustang GT! Now I don’t need no stinkin’ badges as I’ve got the real McCoy!
1976 Plymouth Volare station wagon handmedown. Claimed to have a straight 6 under the hood, but in fact went faster when you let off the gas. I think it was the second year of emmision controls. Good times:rolleyes:
A 1966 Chevy II station wagon with three on the tree and a straight six engine. Big gaping holes in the floor. My grandparents gave it to me (in 1982) and I drove it for a few months before I went in the service.
My first “real” car that I bought new was a 1984 Pontiac Fiero 2M4. What a hunk of crap! I paid $8900 for it with ZERO options. I drove it from NJ to my next duty station in Charleston SC. Who knew Air Conditioning was a must in the south? :rolleyes: Apparently these cars have a cult following now. It was fun to drive when it wasn’t at the dealers being fixed.
Shortly after I moved into my very first apartment, I bought my first car - a 1967 Chevelle - for a whopping $200. I sold it a year later for 195. I think it was blue. I know it got terrible mileage, and I also recall that gas was .49[sup]9[/sup] in San Diego when I owned it, circa 1975. :eek:
A year or so later, before heading to college, I bought my first new car, financed thru Daddy National Bank. It was a 1976 Datsun B-210 2-door, 4-speed, brown with tan interior. I seem to recall it cost around $3500.
My first car was a black '91 Volvo 240. Was still running like a champ when I sold it in 2004 with 140,000 miles on it. I’m certain it’s still running today, somewhere.
1972 Ford Maverick, bought for me by my Dad for $200 when I first got my driver’s license in 1986. Dad felt strongly that a kid needed a car, and they had just purchased a new car, so I wasn’t driving that.
When I saw it in the driveway when I came home from school, I just about started crying. I HATED it, it was JUST SO UGLY. Shit-brown. I sort of fell bad about that now, because looking back, that was a really low time in my parent’s financial and emotional life, and it was a really wonderful thing that he came up with the cash to buy me a car that was more than adequate for getting me around town. But at the time, I wanted something that at least looked a little nicer.
I gradually got used to it, especially since I was the only one of all my friends who had her own car. But I got rid of it as soon as I felt I could afford to buy a car - a 1984 Ford Escort, for the grand price of about $3K.
Between the two of them, they put me off American cars forever. After the Escort literally fell apart around me in 1990 (with about 80K miles on it), it was non-American forever after.
I inherited my Grandpa’s 1977 Chevy Impala after it was decided he was not safe to drive anymore (he tried to make our house a drive through). He bought it new in 1977 - receipt was still in the glove box. It was a lovely burnt orange, modified 350 engine, hauled ass like nobody’s business.
During our Black Friday blizzard of 1989, I used it to pull 4x4 trucks out of snowbanks.
It was an awesome car. Finally, though, the doors rusted internally and the front end was doing the shimmy. I ended up selling it to a kid down the block for $500. He subsequently reno’d it and as of 5 years ago it was still on the road.
