Growing up in the 1980’s I found that cars had already become a necessity of life in Houston. Previous to this I had hitched a ride to school with a friend who eventually discovered girls and was no longer available. I then temporarily tried school buses and found the experience less than satisfactory. By the end of my junior year I knew that I needed something to drive. So hitting several used car lots I found a dark blue 1982 Nissan Stanza hatchback.
The car was already 6 years old by now and had over 60,000 miles. It was thoroughly used. The grey cloth interiors were somewhat stained, the previous owner had been a smoker and for some reason had melted candle wax in the center console. This certainly wasn’t a “chick magnet” but for $1400 hard-earned dollars, produced by my time at the local supermarket, it was mine.
“Transportation! That’s all you need.” is what my dad told me.
Driving home I passed by Sherry, one of my school mates, and she was kind enough to “ooh and aah” at the “new” car. This was about the kindest thing that anyone ever said about that car.
Well it got me through high school, and more than that it gave me freedom. Freedom to explore new areas, to get in and out of trouble.
I used the car to get me to public libraries to do research. I was now able to work past 9 P.M. at the supermarket and make more money. I could go to intramural science competitions in far distant parts of town on the weekends.
It expanded my social life of course. Going to see “Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventures” with friends, going to the “Montrose” area (which at the time was a thoroughly disreputable part of town), drinking with my friends behind the high school at 1 AM (yes I was underage, and no I don’t approve of underage drinking or drinking and driving, I was a lucky 18-year-old punk that got away with it). I remember driving a friend to the downtown post office at 11PM on a Friday night to mail off their application to Duke University and barely getting it postmarked before the deadline. I once drove a girl to a pharmacy to pick up an emergency supply of insulin. I packed a lot of living into that last year of high school thanks to that car.
It got me to college. I stuffed every last inch of it with things I thought I would need at school. It stood by while my mom cried her eyes out about “her baby leaving the nest”. This was my classic American “leaving for college” moment.
But soon I was out on Highway 290 headed out-of-town into the open country. The wide yawning vistas of the central Texas prairies opening up for me, seemingly a metaphor for the possibilities opening up for me in college.
My college friend , Mark, dubbed it the bat mobile (since Batman the movie had just come out that year). Since he didn’t have a car it became the focal point of our social lives in that little outpost of civilization in the middle of nowhere. We took trips to Houston or to Waco for a few hours sightseeing or for the weekend, for “laundry runs” home. We went to Oktoberfest in New Braunfels our senior year. I remember a ridiculously frightening lightning storm that we drove through once and the purple after glow of a bolt that struck just yards from the road as we passed by.
Through it all the car was getting beat up. It had survived being hit twice by drunk drivers, people kept breaking off the car antenna, and the front axle had nearly rusted through.
This last was the worst. Here I am in a college town, in my sophomore year in school, with very little cash to spare, and a busted car. So I had to get it repaired. With a lack of spare parts and in the middle of nowhere, the car mechanic took a full month to find a compatible front axle. In the meantime I walked to school from my apartment every day, no matter what the weather was like.
The walking habit got so deeply ingrained in fact that even after I got the car back I continued walking to school no matter the weather (blazing hot summer day, in the middle of a tornado storm, or zero degree weather in January)
My last year in college. By this time the bat mobile had 120,000 miles and had suffered another breakdown. The transmission this time. Using my last penny I got that fixed and finally graduated and got back to Houston.
By now the car has seen me through 5 years of service and now it took me to and from my first job. The electrical system was malfunctioning. I had to keep a wrench in the car to adjust the front windshield wipers after every rain storm. A brake line burst and sprayed brake fluid on the red-hot front disc and caught the wheel on fire. Everyday I was more and more worried about the car dying on me. Each mile became a strain. Soon I was at 145,000 miles.
It became more than clear that I could no longer go on this way. I needed a new car. It was 1996 and I heard about a new car company called Saturn.
to be continued.
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