Out of Africa, to Brooklyn

My first car was given to me by my Grandmother.  It was a 1939 Chevy with, yes, the starter button on the dash, and three forward gears controled by the gearshift attached to the steering column.  Wonderful car!  I had it until we married and my husband also took loving care of it.  

I have almost always driven a manual shift as has our son...because he has usually driven one of my cast-offs.  He is now.  When he went to college in northern IN, we convinced him to purchase a Nisson with manual shift as he would be having to get himself out of snow drifts, etc. and a manual is so much easier to do that with...with which to do that...whatever. Anyway, he now is very happy with being able to have a smaller sized engine, thus better gas mileage, because he can control the pick-up better with the manual.  AND!  It is impossible to drive a manual and talk on a cell phone at the same time!

By the way, that first car was named Eb.  Short for Ebineezer which my Grandmother said was translated as "with the help of the Lord, I have come".

Grr, more about cars.
Just give me a couple of years and my comments will be much more enthusiastic.
[I'm hoping to get my hands on an old VW van]

A classic car will turn my head, in a minute.

I had a Freelander as a loaner from Pretentious Motorcars in Appleton, Wi., while our Volvo XC was being worked on.
It seemed to me like maybe a woman's entry vehicle until whistling down a superbly laid out rural blacktop road, it tracked so well that it would have been possible to climb into the back to get an out of reach file... and live. I think.

My husband reminded me that the starter in 'Ol Eb was a button on the floor that you pushed with your foot.  And a great story came to mind as we were talking about this.  When we were engaged, I lived in Cleveland and he lived in D.C.  One weekend, he drove over, we packed up both cars, and headed for D.C.  Tooling along on the new interstate, I was pulled over by the police.  Seems that he decided that I looked too young to be driving a 24yo car and he wanted to check the registration to make sure I hadn't stolen it.  My soon-to-be husband stopped as well and immediately began claiming to know nothing about me and had never laid eyes on me... I should have taken that as a lesson, but nooo.  We will be married 45 years the end of this year.

About 15 years ago I sold my 1927 Chevrolet to a collector. The roof inside was wood framed. Hard to drive.

My favorite car was a 1958 Chevy Bel Aire station wagon....great for those weekends at the beach and parking on Lovers Lanes.  Great for drive-in movie theaters, too.  I have fond memories of those drive-in movie nights.....unfortunately, I can't remember the names of any movies I and my dates watched. (Perhaps that's because we weren't watching.)

The new Lexuses (or is that Lexi) have a push button starter on the dash board.

Lovey,
I too had always coveted a VW Microbus until driving behind one on I-80 in Iowa, we watched as it simply blew off the icy winter road. My dream died a sudden death but, luckily, the driver did not.

My first car that I bought with my own money was a 80's  Horizon Hatchback for $600. I bought it from my grandfather   It was Chocolate Brown & a manuel transmission.  I eventually burned/melted out the clutch on it trying to driving that thing throughout the area. Friends & I pushed it through so many of the downtown interesctions I swear most business owners thught the engine blew out on my weekly.   Even with all that I LOVED that car.

My favorite childhood car was this powder blue Scout that my parents had. There was just something about the shape & style of that car that to this day I really haven't seen replicated.

Greetings:   As I have mentioned before, I really like cars.  I still drive the car in which I took my drivers licence test, a 1963 Austin Healey 3000 MkII. My dad was the original owner.  I have a few collectables but most I drive on a regular (monthly) basis.  Land Rovers: the older ones are really quirky and a blast to drive.  My daily driver is a Land Rover Defender 90.  It's full of sailing equipment with my kids surf boards on top.  When it rains, it leaks, (no side wind curtains) and my kids think its awesome.  Our 1970 RHD Landrover 109 seats ten and is great for kids carpooling execpt that by being right hand drive, it makes pulling through the drive through window a bit tricky. We have a G4 series Discovery that was driven across Africa in the G4 challange; it will really go anywhere.  I have had many Land Rovers in my life (my dad used them as tractors on the farm). The newer ones (when Land Rover was owned by BMW, then Ford, now TaTA (India) are a little to fancy for my use.  The old British ones just had character and personality.  Easy to work on and will travel over anything.  My wife drives the very last (2004) Discovery brought to America.  It's the car we use when we don't want to get dirty.  

It was 1967, I was seventeen years old, a freshman at the U of Oklahoma (don't ask me why), and it was the first time away from home.  In other words, I didn't have a clue.  I chipped in with four other guys from the dorm and purchased a 1953 Cadillac Hearse.  That was a year of unbridled fun, much of which took place driving around Norman OK in that dusty old hearse.  

I knew I had to transfer out after the second semester if I was going to survive, let alone prosper.  Had I not, I'd probably still be driving around in that old hearse trying to earn enough credits to be considered a sophomore.

PL:  We're growing older, but not up.

Capt Neptune:  Now that is the best news I've heard today.

Spinner, it is entirely possible to drive a manual whilst talking on the phone, I d it all thetme.  You just hold the phone with yourright shoulder and cheeck while you shift.  Or you can steer with you right knee while you shift with your gith hand and hold the phone with your left.

Note:  Not recommended for chilldren or those just learning to drive.  Under adult supervision only.  See a doctor for any side effects or if symptoms last for more than a few days.

I'm a teenager, driving for only about six months, but the family car - a 2004 Nissan Quest - is among the coolest vehicles I've seen, ever. It might seem hokey and newfangled and wrong, but I think that the red leather, GPS system, and twin televisions make it all the better. We've driven up from Orlando to Montreal and back a good six or seven times now - pushing a hundred thousand miles after four years.

I did not start driving until I was 27-- my parents blamed it on my depth perception and would say mean things. When they were about to leave Alaska to retire, they realized that I would be divorced and alone up here with three young children. I needed therapy to get over my fears of driving as they'd convinced me that not only was I incapable of driving but that I'd be dangerous. I still pray before I drive (I'm Russian Orthodox so I can just cross myself; it's easier that way.)

Now with a very large family, I seldom leave a 20 mile radius of my house but put about 300 miles on my tank every week. My vehicle is an extention of my body and our mechanic finds it amusing that when something is wrong with my car, that I close my eyes, touch part of my body,then tell him where the problem is on my car. It's not a pretty vehicle, but it's mine, it runs and has air conditioning and heating and I love it dearly.

I have had a variety of cars - almost all of them with names, and most of them with good memories. It's not that I don't appreciate the finer cars available, I just like utile vehicles.

My first car was a '65 Chevy Impala named Patrick; followed by a '74 Datsun B210 named Bilbo. I took a lot of hooey about Bilbo, but I could completely pack the car with all of the stage sets I needed for state-wide shows, and STILL get 40 miles/gal. bilbo died an unfortunate death in Bozeman. Max was my VW combi-van. Loved being able to pack up and head off to camp. I learned very early about automatic lane changes, and bumps that would knock the shift out of 4th gear into neutral! We traded Max in for Sven, a Saab with the starter button on the floor. Sven was traded for a '70 Mercedes-Benz 250 that I named Volfie (short for Wolfgang, in homage to Mozart). Let's see, after Volfie, I bought a Nissan Stanza 4-WD (on demand) named Frodo. Fordo didn't do too well on gas, but he got me everywhere I wanted to go through Cincy's so-called winter (wet ice), dirt roads, etc. He lived for 16 years when he finally could no longer be resurrected from the Grim Reaper. I also bought a dealer demo named The Millenium Falcon, a first year Pontiac Transport. We used that car as a bird/wildlife blind whenever we went on video production trips. Pull up to a good area, set up the cameras and wait for everyone to come to you. The Falcon live a good long life of about 12 years. My one indulgence into the luxury car line was Babette - a '93 Pontiac Bonneville with everything except Quadritrack (I know I'm wrong about that - but I can't remember what it really was - you get the idea, though, yes?) Gosh! I loved that car! I wanted to be buried in it! I'd still have her today if Life's calamities had not taken her from me. I forgot that I traded a wonderful Honda Accord (I tried to call him Merriweather, but it really didn't work out) for Babette. After Babette, I bought another Honda Accord, Little Blue. I'm currently driving the incredibly utile Toyota Sierra, Bella. She was originally bought because my mother could no longer easily get in and out of cars. She had no problem getting into the van. I inherited her after mom's death.

I would love to buy an '05 Pontiac Vibe. Or maybe a Honda Fit. I like them both - cutie-patooties that get good gas mileage and utile for conveying all of my stuff. Anyone out there who can give me advice on either of these two cars? (Is anyone still awake to read that question?)! :-} Also the Toyota Xa. Do they still make these?

First vehicle was a 49 chevy that I got from my grandparents . It had a hole in the floor under the drivers feet and my grandfather had stuffed it with newspaper , on the way home the exhaust pipe started it on fire and it came up and burned all the hair off my legs. Shoulda seen me on the side of the road trying to put out  the fire on my shorts and the car floor  at the same time.

It wasn't my first car. I'd rather not talk about that - the memories are still to traumatic - let's just say I remain suspicious of vehicles convceived in former Soviet republics. The conversations above have reminded me of a vehicle that has a special place in my memory. A Willys Overland station wagon.

Here on New Zealand roads American cars have always been something of an oddity and the Willys with its pressed steel panels, towering grill and sculpted wing fenders cut quite a swathe through the city streets of Auckland.

The interior was spartan but highly functional. The pressed steel dashboard was a work of art with Deco flourishes like an old refrigerator with chrome flourishes and a gigantic central speedometer (whose size was inverse to the speed it measured). Beside the huge bakelite steering wheel, with its jewel like centre horn, the stick-shift (3 speed) branched out, ending with white knob the size of billiard ball. 

I would travel to my city office from the farm with my dog, a gigantic Bouvier des Flandres in the front seat alongside - usually with his head out the window and his impressive windswept beard blocking out his view. It was the kind of vehicle that made people toot and smile. 

In the summer my wife and I would park it at the beach, open the tail-gates and camp in the cavernous rear. In the years since I have never seen another - though I have seen my old truck, it is now a promotional truck for the importers of a range of surf clothing.

I loved its laid back style. While it is probably not very environmentally friendly - as aerodynamic as a bale of hay with a vast gas guzzling 6 cylinder engine - I would have another in a flash - for those  special days when I don't have to be anywhere in particular.

Jeff Bristol:  That is a great story.  I truly love my Defender 90 (it's a 1995, not the 90 wagon)  It lives at the beach, has an active life (though not like Heavy D) and is my daily driver.  A TRUE Land Rover can truly get under you skin and in your heart.  Cheers!