My
      first
      car
      was
      an
      interesting
     
     
      experience.
      I
      was
      living
      away
      from
     
     
      home
      and
      had
      recently
      gotten
      a
      new
     
     
      ob,
      but
      it
      was
      no
      longer
      a
      walking
      dis-
     
     
      ance
      from
      my
      apartment.
      The
      buses
      -
     
     
      the
      community
      in
      which
      I
      lived
     
     
      ere
      unpredictable
      and
      only
      ran
      until
     
     
      lpm.
      I
      was
      working
      in
      a
      movie
      the-
     
     
      tre
      and
      I
      sometimes
      worked
      until
     
     
      am.
      Besides,
      the
      ride
      cost
      me
      about
     
     
      10
      aday.
      Keep
      in
      mind
      I
      was
      getting
     
     
      aid
      about
      $12
      an
      hour,
      but
      still,
      in
      my
     
     
      0-year
      old
      mind,
      this
      was
      an
      unrea-
     
     
      onable
      expense.
     
     
      I
      probably
      could
      have
      asked
     
    

    
     
      y
      employers
      to
      work
      during
      the
      days
     
     
      (we
      opened
      at
      11am),
      but
      obviously
     
     
      he
      prospect
      of
      owning
      my
      own
      car
     
    

    
     
      as
      far
      more
      intoxicating.
      I
      made
      a
     
     
      sophomoric
      mistake:
      probably
      one
      of
     
     
      the
      most
      common
      mistakes
      that
      kids
     
     
      make
      when
      they're
      looking
      for
      a
      car.
      I
     
     
      was
      dead-set
      on
      a
      specific
      make
      and
     
     
      model
      of
      car.
      [
      hit
      the
      free
      car
      ads
      and
     
     
      scoured
      the
      pages
      for
      this
      type
      of
      car
      I
     
     
      wanted.
      I
      didn't
      look
      for
      a
      quality
      car,
     
     
      or
      a
      car
      with
      low
      milage.
      No,
      I
      looked
     
     
      for
      my
      dream
      car
      like
      I
      had
      blinders
     
     
      on-
      willing
      to
      settle
      for
      a
      total
      P.O.S.
     
    
   
   
    
     
      _
      |
      bought
      that
      P.O.S.,
     
     
      and
      paid
      for
      the
      con-
     
     
      stant
      repairs
      like
      any
     
    

    
     
      other
      adult
      would.
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
      On
      my
      next
      day
      off,
      I
      found
     
     
      myself
      on
      a
      train
      for
      half
      an
      hour
      to
      a
     
     
      really
      shady
      community.
      There
      was
     
     
      the
      car,
      sitting
      in
      the
      drive.
      It
      was
     
     
      cool,
      but
      there
      were
      drawbacks.
      Big
     
     
      ones.
      I
      couldn't
      take
      the
      car
      for
      a
      test-
     
     
      drive
      because
      I
      had
      not
      yet
      learned
     
     
      how
      to
      drive
      a
      standard,
      so
      the
      owner
     
     
      drove
      it
      around
      the
      block.
      The
      guy
     
     
      saw
      me
      coming
      a
      mile
      away.
      2
     
    

    
     
      It
      was
      a
      1982,
      it
      smelled
      a
      lit-
     
     
      tle
      funny,
      the
      engine
      wasn't
      original
      to
     
     
      the
      car
      (or
      even
      the
      model
      of
      car),
      I
     
     
      could
      only
      push
      the
      clutch
      in
      about
      2
     
     
      inches,
      the
      tires
      were
      bald,
      the
     
     
      speedometer
      and
      odometer
      didn't
      work
     
     
      and
      I
      didn't
      find
      out
      until
      later
      that
      the
     
     
      8as
      gauge
      stuck
      on
      "full"
      if
      you
      filled
     
     
      It
      too
      high.
      But
      the
      tape
      deck
      worked
     
    
   
   
    
     
      Stark
      Raving
      Sane:
      On
      First
      Cars
     
    
   
   
    
     
      By
      Catherine
      Sweet
     
    
   
   
    
     
      almost
      all
      the
      time
      and
      the
      guy
      told
      me
     
     
      he'd
      throw
      in
      "The
      Club"
      and
      fix
      the
     
    
   
   
    
     
      horn
      (he
      didn't).
     
    
   
   
    
     
      Why
      did
      I
      all
      of
      a
      sudden
      lose
     
     
      all
      grasp
      of
      reasoning?
      I
      was
      no
     
     
      longer
      simply
      willing
      to
      settle
      for
      a
     
     
      crapbox,
      but
      it
      was
      like
      I
      was
      ringing
      a
     
     
      bell
      and
      wearing
      a
      sandwich
      sign
      pro-
     
     
      claiming
      "Rob
      Me
      Blind!"
      I'm
      not
      sure
     
     
      what
      prompted
      me
      to
      lose
      touch
      with
     
     
      reality.
      I
      was
      never
      in
      a
      rush
      to
      move
     
     
      away
      from
      home.
      Nor
      did
      I
      want
      to
     
     
      rebel
      via
      smoking,
      drinking
      or
      drugs.
     
     
      Now,
      after
      a
      couple
      of
      years
      of
      analy-
     
     
      sis,
      I've
      decided
      that
      this
      car
      was
      the
     
     
      incredibly
      "adult"
      thing
      that
      I
      had
      to
     
     
      do.
      I
      bought
      that
      P.O.S.,
      and
      paid
      for
     
     
      the
      constant
      repairs
      like
      any
      other
     
     
      adult
      would.
     
    
   
   
    
     
      I
      looked
      for
      my
      dream
     
     
      car
      like
      I
      had
      blinders
     
     
      on-
      willing
      to
      settle
     
     
      for
      a
      total
      P.O.S.
     
    
   
   
    
     
      It
      was
      like
      an
      abusive
      relation-
     
     
      ship.
      It
      would
      break
      down,
      stall,
     
     
      flood,
      stall,
      bang,
      stall,
      and
      stall
      and
      I
     
     
      would
      run
      back
      to
      it
      day
      after
      day,
      nur-
     
     
      turing
      it
      with
      fuel
      and
      lubricants
      (it
     
     
      was
      a
      lubricant
      junkie).
      Two
      years
     
     
      later,
      I'm
      still
      experiencing
      the
      pain.
     
     
      The
      car
      was
      so
      small,
      the
      seats
      could
     
     
      not
      go
      back
      far
      enough
      for
      me
      to
      drive
     
     
      comfortably,
      so
      I
      ended
      up
      having
      to
     
     
      hold
      both
      legs
      off
      the
      seats
      to
      work
      the
     
     
      pedals
      and
      not
      knock
      the
      wheel
      with
     
     
      my
      knees.
      My
      joints
      were
      so
      messed
     
     
      up
      I
      had
      to
      see
      a
      physiotherapist
      when
     
     
      I
      returned
      home.
     
    

    
     
      In
      my
      oh-so-mature
      (cough)
     
     
      present-day
      mind,
      I
      know
      that
      the
      bus
     
     
      is
      a
      reasonable
      alternative
      and
      no
      mat-
     
     
      ter
      how
      much
      I
      like
      the
      look
      of
      a
      car,
      I
     
     
      have
      to
      make
      a
      more
      critical
      decision.
     
     
      Was
      everyone's
      youthful
      forays
      into
     
     
      car
      ownership
      as
      bad
      as
      mine?
      I
      hope
     
     
      so,
      actually.
      Like
      moving
      away
      from
     
     
      home,
      everyone
      should
      experience
      the
     
     
      bittersweet
      bliss
      of
      owning
      a
      con-
     
     
      demnable
      car.
      My
      beautiful
      beast
      was
     
     
      crushed
      at
      the
      scrapyard
      a
      short
      month
     
     
      after
      I
      moved
      home.
      It
      was
      about
      6
     
     
      months
      overdue.
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
      What
      is
      more
      strange:
      The
      fact
      that
      Catharine
      actually
      owne
     
     
      car
      or
      the
      fact
      that
      Catharine
      is
      six
      feet
      tall.
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
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