My first car

Every teenager cannot wait to turn sixteen and I was no different.  Why?  No, not my sweet sixteen party because I am a guy and we don't do such foolishness.  Two words:  driver's license.  My sixteenth birthday was somewhat disappointing because I didn't get my license.  No friends, I waited until I was seventeen.  Bummer.

After the license came the car.  I got my first car when I was a senior in high school.  The last semester in high school.  I remember it clearly.  Actually, I remember day dreaming about what my first car would be.  I wanted a truck, or some sporty job with a racing stripe.  Ohhhh, a jeep would have been nice, too.  No.  I got nothing like that.  What was my first car you ask? 

The year was 1992, late spring to be exact.  I knew my first automobile would be used and I did not care.  I just wanted something nice, and cool, and I wanted a non-granny car.  What I imagined myself driving was a Chevy pickup.  What I got was a blue 1986 Ford Tempo.  It's okay to laugh, I still do.  I got a granny car.  Bummer.

So there I was driving to school in a Tempo.  I was proud for about a week, until some snob decided to clown on me.  My sister was happy because she thought of me and my not-so-fine automobile as a taxi service.  I was pleased because I no longer walked to school.  But I didn't think so much about the car.  It wasn't cool!  It wasn't sporty!  It didn't have a racing stripe!

So, I worked at the YMCA in high school.  It's okay to laugh, I still do.  I loved that job though.  I had fun and stayed in crazy shape.  Anyway, my car was parked in the lot one day while I was teaching a swim lesson or something. I walked outside to leave and saw this huge white streak down the side of the car.  I knew immediately.  Some clown drove away and side-swiped my car.  What a punk.  My dad was furious.  He was convinced I was lying and just knew I had an accident.  I tried to explain it, but, no dice.  There was one positive I guess.  I now had my racing stripe, sort of.  And, it didn't make the car any cooler.

After three long months with my first car, it died.  That's right, after twelve whole weeks and it decided to put itself out of its misery.  I was heart broken.  Actually, I was.  Now I had to ride a bicycle wherever I went, or drive my parent's MINIVAN.  Oh how cool, seventeen and in a minivan.  And I wondered why I got no dates in college.

I think about my first car and was grateful my parents spent money on it.  They trusted me enough to drive it, or just wanted me to help chauffeur my siblings around.  Either way, they bought me a car and I was happy.  So now I think about the cars my kids will have.  Hannah, I'm thinking will be driving what my brother drove, an Olds Cutlass, or "Cut-Dog" as he so affectionately named it.  Cooper, maybe needs a Chevy of some type.  And Riley, well she will be out of luck since we will be to broke to buy her a car because her sisters' insurance will be out of control.  Maybe she can have the minivan I plan to have at the time she will be driving.  Hey, it was good enough for me.