Carnival of the Crazy Hip Mamas #7
The topic: “Favorite Car You’ve Ever Had”.
Finally, something near and dear to my heart. I am so glad you asked!
Well, almost. While whoever thought of this certainly gave me a hell of a lot to post about, the thought of picking the most favorite car I’ve ever had is ALMOST like asking me to pick a favorite child. I’m a true hillbilly at heart, and I have loved and gotten attached to every car I’ve ever had.
I grew up in a household that cherished cars. My dad raced cars in the local circuit as well as bought, fixed up, and sold cars, so we had many. We usually had several at the same time. The ones that really stick out are the ‘70 Chevelle, ‘72 Chevelle SS, ‘74 El Camino SS, ‘72 Pontiac LeMans, ‘74 Camaro, ‘70 Plymouth Fury, the ‘78 Monte Carlo, and the ‘81 Formula Firebird.
The ‘70 Chevelle we had when I was little - I couldn’t even say Chevelle, so I just called it a ‘Shoe-bell’. This was probably the last car my dad raced, and he did pretty well with it locally, at least. Maybe more; I don’t know. But I remember one Saturday night, I was in the living room while my mom was in the kitchen doing dishes when a police officer knocked on the door to tell us that Daddy had run the Chevelle off in a ditch somewhere. Turns out Daddy was okay, but that was the end of Shoe-bell.
I remember my mom’s ‘72 LeMans so well because my kindergarten teacher could tell me about one full minute before my mom arrived to pick me up; the car was THAT loud. The kindergarten was pretty much at the corner of two streets, and she said she could hear it coming once Mama turned onto the street about a block away. This wasn’t one of those lame-o, wimpy LeManses of the early 90s which were resurrected in the form of an economy car. Back in ‘72, the LeMans was a true muscle car, closely resembling the GTO. My mom’s looked exactly like this one, in fact. Well, minus the grahpics on the back. I wish I had a scanner…if I did, I could show you a picture of my mom circa ‘76, standing in front of her badass LeMans in a white bikini, with butt-length black hair. She was absolutely stunning. They both were, actually.
But back to the cars….Shoe-bell’s replacement was another ‘72 Chevelle, identical to Shoe-bell, except this one was a Super Sport with these big, bad, racing stripes. Daddy had actually gotten this one before he crashed Shoe-bell, but didn’t do much with it other than drive it daily. He held onto it for a long time. I’m not sure if he ever raced this one or not.
I do remember that after my parents divorced and he got a new girlfriend, I became fast friends with her niece, who was my age. Every Friday night was the night that I’d spend the night with my dad, and my new friend would come over. As soon as he got off work, he and I would go pick her up in the SS. She lived out in the country, along a rural highway with plenty of dips and curves. My dad would take advantage of these to show us how well the car hugged the road (it did!), and once, along a straightaway stretch, he floored it, causing the car to almost lift off the ground, and pinning us to the seats. How I loved the tickle I’d get in my tummy when the G’s kicked in! Our Mamas were not pleased.
Then Daddy got a ‘74 El Camino SS. Candy apple red, with chrome pipes and hubcaps, I was instantly in love! I had never seen a ‘truck car’ before. I still feel that no other ‘truck car’ combined the hotness of a sports car with the functionality of a small truck with as much style and class as the El Camino. I still, to this day, want an El Camino for myself.
Mama’s next car was her ‘78 Monte Carlo. Even though it was as impreseive, performance-wise, as her other car, I remember this one as being the first ‘classy’ car we ever had. It was maroon, with maroon leather interior, power windows and door locks, and sported a snazzy hood ornament. I remember this one lasting us a few years, while my stepdad drove a 1970 Plymouth Fury. They used to tease me and tell me that that was going to be my first car. And I’d start crying, because at the time (age 9), I couldn’t even see out the windows or over the dash. It was HUGE. Later, as I got older, I began plotting to sell it as soon as it came into my possession, because by then (age 13), it would never do for me to drive a boat-sized car. (I later learned that the ‘70 Furys were dubbed ‘land yachts’. I can totally see why).
Mama eventually ditched the ‘78 Monte Carlo and came home one day in an ‘81 Formula Firebird. I was a very angsty, pubescent teen, and I HATED that car! Why couldn’t my mom be like other moms and drive a sedan grocery-getter? I’d go to the movies every week, and beg my parents to drop me off at the next corner. I was so embarrassed to be seen in that car when everyone else’s parents drove ‘regular’ cars. Looking back, I can’t think of a single good reason why I was so embarrassed. That car was incredibly hot! But….being a teenager to whom fitting in was, at the time, VERY important, I guess I just didn’t want myself or my family to be different in any way.
Daddy eventually got rid of the Chevelle and El Camino, and got himself a ‘74 Camaro that he kept for the longest time. It was an awesome looking car, scarlet with red and black leather interior, and loud as all get-out. By then, he had married a woman with two kids, and this was one of their ‘family’ cars (now you see where I got the idea that it was okay to have a sports car as a family car!). We took it to the beach on vacation, and numerous other places.
This became my first car at 16, and I grew to hate it, too. This time, not because of it being a 12 year old sports car and me thinking I needed something better or newer, but because I could NOT keep it running. It constantly ran hot. The tires constantly deflated. It constantly went dead at red lights. I couldn’t actually use the car that much. I ended up totally destroying the back end in a collision with a train (but that’s another post for another time) coming home from my babysitting job one evening.
Daddy was able to part out what was left of the car, and with the money from the train company, I was able to purchase an equally shitty ‘78 Cutlass Supreme. Which DID last me an entire year before dying. By then, I had graduated school and was working, and purchased the first of my cars that were actually, well…my cars.
It was a brand new ‘88 Ford Escort LX, 2 door hatchback. It was a stick-shift, so I taught myself to drive a stick-shift in it. I drove it for over five years. My first husband and I loaded all our worldly possessions into it and drove it to Fort Irwin, CA, to the first place he was stationed in the military. We made several trips back and forth across the country as well as trips to every tourist destination in Southern California, Nevada, and Arizona in that car. I had my first son while I still had that car, so it was also my first ‘family’ car.
It was paid off and still running (although it scared me because it had so many miles on it) when I traded it in on my next family car, the ‘93 Escort Wagon. I actually wanted the wagon, because my son was a few months old and I was expecting again. I thought a wagon would be ideal because I’d have two babies and all their supplies and two car seats. This worked well until my oldest son discovered he could unlock the ‘child-proof’ locks.
By then, my rebellious side had reared its redneck head and I decided I wanted a Mustang. The then-husband bought me one.
My ‘95 Mustang is the only car my children have ever known and remember. I had them in it when they were both still in car seats. I’ve had it since they grew out of car seats, and now they are about to grow out of the car completely. It’s my grocery-getter. I dropped my kids off and picked them up in the car line at school in this car. We road-trip in it (well we drive A LOT in it) every other weekend. I may complain about it a lot, but it has close to 200,000 miles on it and it has been through a lot….the latest of which can be read about here. My oldest son has already asked for it when he comes of driving age. I hope it lasts us till then!
I have a gorgeous black ‘79 Trans Am, which I LOVE. I drove all the way to Georgia to buy it, and I can’t wait to get it restored. I don’t know if I will ever get it restored to daily driver dependability, but so far is has been very helpful to have around when my main car has been temporarily out of commission.
So….just ONE favorite car? That will be impossible. Cars are far more than simply a means of transportation to me.
Originally published at devilishsouthernbelle.net. You can comment here or there.