I am sitting at the Subaru dealership waiting as my car is serviced, thinking about all my many modes of travel over the years.  I have a relatively new car, having purchased it in late October of 2016–even though it is a 2017 model.  It is my first SUV and I am enjoying it very much.   It brought to mind the many cars I’ve owned and driven over the years of my life since turning 16 in 1963.

My very first car was a 1953 Ford that my friends and I named ‘Ruby Baby’. She was burgundy and white.   I hadn’t been driving long when, on my way home from school one day, I slammed into the back of an upper ‘classlady’, who was furious with me.  I was waving at someone walking home from school and didn’t pay attention that the traffic had stopped.  It was actually Doyle who came to get me and the car and repaired it for me.

A few months later, one Sunday morning my friend Iris  and I were downtown Macon at our church, The First Church of Christ Scientist.  I was driving my parent’s 1958 Oldsmobile.  With no power steering, it was like driving a tank!! I had parked in the Chi- chester Drug Store  parking lot and after the service, as I was backing out to leave, a lady behind me was also backing out and bam!  We hit one another.  The Oldsmobile had big silver fins which cut into her trunk like a can opener.  My parent’s car wasn’t damaged much and after exchanging telephone numbers, we drove home.  I was terrified–how do I tell my parents I’ve had another fender bender?  When we got home, Mama had Sunday lunch ready–pot roast with the fixin’s and peach cobbler for dessert.  However, before I could figure out how to tell them about my unfortunate incident and before the peach cobbler was served, the telephone rang. I heard my mom say, ‘Noooo, she didn’t tell me.” 😳 There were tears (mine) and profuse apologies–also mine.  When Mama contacted the insurance man–again–he called me “hard luck woman”

Then, in 1964, my dad bought a new Simca for me.  It was a tiny ‘coffin’ to say the least.  Summer came and it was time for band camp.  I was the drum major for our all girls high school band and played French horn during concert season.  I begged my daddy to let me drive the car instead of riding the big yellow school bus.  Reluctantly, he agreed.  All was well until we started home at the end of the week from Rock Eagle where the band camp was held.  I and three of my friends were tooling along on Gray Highway.  As we stopped behind a car turning left, a huge Cadillac driven by a very old man slammed into the back of us and pushed us into the car in front of me.  Clearly this was not my fault.  My little Simca crumpled up like an accordion.  We all got whip lash and once again, I had to call my parents.  Well, the insurance company refused to total the car but repaired it instead.  My dad was not happy and I drove a rental car for a long time while it was being repaired. When I went off to college–that’s another story for another musing–Daddy sold the Simca which still had the crease across the top.  (We weren’t allowed to have a car at school.)  When I came home from college at the end of the quarter and told my parents that I wasn’t going back to school, but instead was going to get married,  I drove Doyle’s old ’58 Ford until we married in April the next year.   Doyle had recently bought a 1964 Ford Falcon Futura with four in the floor and now that I think about it, wonder why he didn’t let me drive that car and he the ’58???!!!.  There is something wrong with this picture 😤

After we married, we had many vehicles.  My all time favorite was a mini van we bought in 1989.  It was a burgundy Plymouth Grand Voyager and was so plush and comfy.  I often took students home after FHA meetings at school and had plenty of room to take a car load to meetings out of town.  We finally sold it after we moved to Augusta, when Doyle decided I needed another car but not another mini van.  I was not very happy.  The car we bought was a 1995 green Mazda 626 with leather seats and a sun roof–it was my consolation prize.  It’s been kinda funny.  I have never asked for a new car.  Doyle gets these wild hairs that it’s time for a new car.  I was perfectly happy with the Mazda, when he decided I needed a new one and this time it was my second favorite car–a black 2001 Nissan Maxima–‘Maxi’.  She also had leather seats and a sun roof–by then these were absolute requirements.  It was truly a classy car.  Then, in 2009–Doyle got that new car look in his eyes.  I wanted an SUV, but he decided we needed a Toyota Camry this time.  I felt like I had digressed in classiness. 😒 I wanted black again and but with some chiding, I agreed that if I didn’t get black–it had to be fire engine red.  Also, I could get this car in a hybrid and that made up for the lower class car.  I loved that car, too.  It got great gas mileage and was easy to drive.

I made mention that in 2017, it would have been 8 years since a new vehicle–Doyle’s eyes lit up.  I said, not now, you can get one for my 70th birthday in March, 2017.  It wouldn’t do him until he found the Subaru I am now driving.  They were selling these cars like hot cakes and were offering 0% interest financing.  I didn’t really like any of the colors available and the ones we looked at had light tan leather interior.  The Mazda and Camry both had light beige interiors and it showed dirt so quickly.  I was at Yoga when he called me and came to pick me up to look at one that had a black interior.  I was so excited until I saw it was silver on the outside.  I have never been fond of silver cars–it looks like primer, as if they forgot to paint it.  Oh, Doyle said, it’s called Icy Silver–it’s not really silver, it’s more of an icy blue.  Whatever!!  It’s still silver to me.  Today as I drove in for service, there was a very cool dark outdoorsy green one.  Oh, well, I’m stuck for at least 7 more years with this one.  It’s has some very cool safety features which we have enjoyed.  It beeps when you ‘depart the lane’-either side, it beeps when you put it in reverse and someone is walking or driving by, it beeps if the car in front of you moves, it beeps if someone slows in front of you while using cruise control.  I am just wondering why it didn’t say one beep when I backed into Doyle’s truck one morning.  Yep, I have already christened this one–it’s no longer pristine, and since the driver of the truck has my same insurance–I will just drive it with the boo-boo.

Thanks for reading my ramblings–my other posts were a bit heavy so thought you might enjoy a little lighter fare.  Until the Spirit moves again………

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