Question/Topic of the Week

Hey everyone! My slacker self is back with the question of the week. Feel free to take it to your blog and run wild.. or just answer it here! Just trying to inspire some bloggy creativity. So, on to this weeks topic..

WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CAR? What did it look like? Did you buy it? or your parents? Where you embarrassed or proud? How long did you have it? Where did you go in it?

I have to begin by telling you that I have never really cared about cars. Which is weird because I come from a line of car enthusiasts. I could truly care less what I am driving, as long as it gets me where I am going. The car I am driving now is proof of that. It's called the "silver bullet" and that's all I have to say about that.

I bought my first car at age 17. I did not save up for it. Although I had been working since I was 13, with babysitting and Burger King, I had no money set aside for it. My parents had a rule that they would not buy our first cars. (They were very "earn your own way" and all that.) So, because I was not really interested in cars, nor did I have any money.. I took my paycheck from Burger King on the day I turned 17 and went car shopping. The selection of cars available for 149.76 was incredibly slim as you can imagine, and this is what I ended up with:

(not my actual car.. I did not take picures... but this is it's twin, amazingly found online!)

Yes, that's right people. This fine piece of automotive machinery was all mine. A 1978 AMC Concord. It was a lovely shade of faded green, accessorized with sassy spots of orange rust and silver scratches. The interior was too die for, and with that I mean, it smelled like someone died in there. And although I had never been a car enthusiast, I remember getting behind that gigantic steering wheel and inhaling that sweetly decaying body scent and thinking..."Shit. I probably should have saved two paychecks."

However, I do look back fondly on "the Tank". It took me places and that's all I wanted. Sure, I arrived in a rattling, smoking beast that stalled spontaneously and backfired at inopportune moments, but I got where I was going. Which at the time, was my boyfriends house. He was glad just to not have to drive. He even taught me how to do burnouts.. and I mean, really.. isn't that just the most romantic thing you have ever heard?

There really is no freedom like your first car. I remember long drives, singing my heart out to Juliana Hatfield in my Doc Martens and babydoll dresses and just reveling in being alone and being able to go wherever my heart desired. Well, at least until I ran out of gas, cause the gas gauge was broke.

Eventually though.. it was time to move on. The tank had his run and it was good one. But he was a tired, old soul and was eventually put out of his misery. (I forgot to put oil in him and his engine blew up.) But this time, I was prepared. This time I saved two paychecks. Meet the oil guzzling, pollution cloud inducing creature know as "The Mosquito Sprayer".


It lasted about a month, before I ran it straight into the ground and my parents gave in and bought me a car. I think Dad was sick of picking his daughter up on the side of the road next to a smoldering car.

So, I say thank you to you, The Tank and The Mosquito Sprayer for all your hard work and dedication to getting my sweet little teenage self away from my parents( who I am sure were so glad to get my whining butt out of their cars). May you rust in peace forever in your junkyard graves.