What your first Car should be

I heard someone say the other day when they heard of someone who just got their driver’s licence and was given a brand new very expensive car with all the trimmings,  “That’s not right!  Your first car should be bit of a bomb that you have to work hard to pay for and you have stories to tell your grandchildren about´ You know stuff like –  “I loved my first car.  It was a twelve year old Torana and it was green with one blue door and the handles used to stick and I had to sit on a cushion because the seat was too low for me to see across the bonnet properly.  Oh how I loved that car!  It was mine, all mine paid for with blood sweat and tears.” 

I’m very much inclined to agree with this sentiment. Thinking back to the first car we got after we were married.  R came home with it the afternoon before we had to go to a wedding.  It was a yellow Humber and it meant we didn’t have to catch the bus or get a lift anymore, we had our own wheels.

Next day my Mother came over to mind the babies while we went to the wedding.  We sailed out in our best clobber, got in the car and it wouldn’t start!  We had to get a taxi to the wedding.  And in those days there was no warranty with second hand cars.  Eventually we got it fixed.

Some years and a few old bombs later we got our first ‘second car’.  R brought it home – it was a bargain – a grey mini-minor. Loved that car.  It turned around on a penny and I felt like the queen of Sheba in it.  It had no floor covering and several holes in the metal floor that let in the wind and cold in the winter and splashes of water in the rain.  I used it for work.

One day while out I noticed the water light had come on.  I decided I knew enough about cars by this time and I could fix this myself.  So I found an empty ice cream container and filled it up at a tap in someone’s front yard and began to fill the radiator.  And filled it and filled it.   Drove around for the rest of the day and went home quite proud of myself.  After about a week R thought the mini was not driving well and decided he needed to replace the head gasket.  This was a major job because to get at the head gasket you practically had to take the engine apart. 

Nevertheless one weekend R worked for two days with much swearing because it was a small engine and he had thick fingers. When he was finished late on Sunday afternoon I was sitting in the car watching him put water in the engine.  I was a little puzzled and asked “why are you putting the water in there R?”  He said because that’s where it goes. “doesn’t it go in the front where the radiator is “ says me.  "No this is an east-west engine."  “What’s an east-west engine? I ask.  R froze.  “where did you put the water the other day”?   [this said In a dangerously calm voice.] “There in the front where the radiator always is” I reply in my innocence.  “That’s where the oil goes” he says still dangerously calmly.  “Oh, I thought  the cap was a bit dirty when I undid it” I say.

R stood up and said even more dangerously calmly “Go Away now!  Go away!”  then he went out and got drunk.

It was always difficult when we were forced to trade up to another car.   We would set a budget but the next car was always over the budget.  One time the car dealer took our trade in for a test drive while I sat in the office re-working the budget to find an extra few dollars a week to pay for the newer car.  The dealer guy was away for a long time and finally word came that the transmission had fallen out of our car and it would have to be towed. So we were forced to do a deal with that car yard even though it was sailing close to the wind with finances.

One time R bought a bright yellow “sin-bin” van.  The back was carpeted and set up unusually.  After we bought it we found a small safe tucked under the carpet.  Leaving it to our imagination who might have been the previous owners.  One day with the kids in the car I pulled into one of the few personal service petrol stations left and the man – a nice Italian man came out and as he filled up the car he asked me “what’s a nice-a lady like you doing driving a van like this?”

The car we traded the van in on was probably the first really nice car we ever had. A Ford Fairmont with a vinyl roof – air conditioning, power steering – pure luxury. We had it for years and I thought If I won the lottery I would still keep that car and just keep having it done up.

But over the years we kept trading up to better cars with a bit more of what we thought of as luxury but had become standard on cars. I don’t ever take the car for granted. I really appreciate it. There are a few of those cars that I still think of nostalgically.  But if I had been given a luxury car to start with I would never have come to appreciate all the cars over the years.  I’m sure many of you have fond memories of your First Car and will tell them to your grandchildren one day.  I’d be happy to hear some of your stories if you want to tell them in a comment.