Posts Tagged ‘Cars


The last day of car acquaintance

We were just going for a test drive.

Sooner or later you reach a point where you have to sink so much money into your car to make it sellable that it’s worth just as much or more as a trade-in. And even if that’s not precisely true, it’s worth something to have someone else take it off your hands.

So Jeff and I drove to a suburban car dealer in a 1997 Jeep Wrangler, and we drove home in a 2011 Honda CR-V.

When Jeff bought that Jeep in 2002 he joked, “It makes me look 30% sexier.” And he was right. It was true for anyone. It was a hot little number. Now we’re lulled into a need for reliability and comfort, room for groceries and, one day, room for a kid. Sturdy. Sensible. Soccer mom.

The new car is lovely. But it sure is hard to say good bye to the old friend who saw us through three moves and three cities. Continue reading ‘The last day of car acquaintance’


Prodigal Datsun

Every day city dwellers see countless cars, and of those, remembers or even notices very few without blending them into the road salt- and bird shit-splattered canvas of urban living.

The other day, however, I went walkabout on the city’s brotherly streets and happened upon a vehicle that stood out to me as an unexpected childhood reminder: a Datsun 280ZX. You don’t often see this little gem of 1970s Japanese engineering. At least, I don’t. I wondered for a moment, as I noted the driver’s judicious use of The Club, where he or she gets parts.

Datsun 280ZX
A reminder of mom’s more carefree days.
Datsun 280ZX Matchbox car    
Vroom vroom!

It was my favorite Matchbox car, followed closely by that Italian model that served as the car mode for Wheeljack, of “Transformers” fame.

My parents had just such a Datsun when I was born. (It was the same smoky blue as the one I saw the other day.) It might have been my mom’s. I like to imagine her in a sports car, and I suppose it was a fine vehicle for a school teacher in her mid-20s. Then I came along. And so did the station wagons. And the only place for a fun car in my our lives was in my pocket.

the untallied hours