I spent all my money and soul keeping my old sports car on the road. Having a car gave me freedom. No matter what happened, it always broke down. I sold my soft green Datsun truck to repay a man who bought bad speed from me. Somewhere along the line, I acquired JR’s orange Fiat Spider. It never ran either. Grandmamma bought a tired Datsun 510, and it kept on running. You bet I had car envy.
In a moment of insanity, mother took me to a dealer and bought me a used,tan, VW hatchback. She traded in my SPL 311 on it, and I let her do this for the promise of reliability. It had one of the very first automotive computers under its back hatch.
One of the first things I did was go with a friend downtown to go drinking.
The second thing I did was toss my wine out the window on the cop that stopped me.
My friend Dale got me released on my own recognizance, and mother came to get me. Then these fine folks put me in my car, we each drove our own car to the nearest Denny’s, and after feeding me, they let me drive home.
Mother’s health was failing and she was often in the hospital. One day, very brave of me and very far from help, I broke down on the freeway as I was going to see her. The computer quit, the serpentine belt quit….I’d never heard of a serpentine belt, and later it rolled down a hill into a guard rail.
I fixed it up, lied a lot, sold it to some poor person, and went back to taking the bus. I walked to the bars tacking to the left and tacking to the right.
Years later, when she couldn’t see to drive, she gave me her 1966 Oldsmobile coupe. One night she decided she didn’t like the fact I used the CC she gave me with the car for gas, and she took the olds back.
Walking was good for me.