My Cars So Far

1963 – 2019

I've had a car since I turned 16. They've given me mobility, fun and fodder for narcissistic self analysis. 

My first three cars were gifts from my mother. So right from the get go my self image suffered. I couldn't buy myself a car.

The first was a used, salmon and white 1955 Chevy Bel Air. It was too big for the meager parking garage in our apartment building. Bel Air suffered scrapes and dings and I developed a distaste for large cars. 

The second car was a 1964 gold Mustang convertible inherited cheap from my mum's friend who won it in a contest. From this car I learned that girls in real life were less attracted to sexy cars than in the movies. 

The third was a sports car, a white Volvo P1800, the car the Saint drove in the TV series and known as a poor man's Porsche. That became my mindset. I rarely buy the Cadillac version of anything. Instead I shop for a smart economical choice. I'm a poster boy for parsimony. 

One sweet bonus was P1800 drivers waved to each other when we passed. I was in a cool club.

The first car I personally bought coincided with parenthood. We opted for a copper coloured Mazda GLC in 1977. GLC stands for great little car. Smart and small, pushed many of this new father's buttons.

A company car was next. A Toyota Celica Supra, the sporty version of a bland car. I chose the buckwheat colour which looked good to me for a month. Then not so much.

That was followed by a black Datsun 200SX in 1983. It was a smallish, sporty family car which I really liked. I remember it got me thru a huge snow storm while many other cars got stuck. 

Next came a loaned car when a friend’s mum got too old to drive and we took her navy blue Volvo sedan. Irresistibly free carried the day. 

That was followed by a fully loaded slate grey Subaru family sedan. Options like power windows and door locks came standard not as overpriced optional extras. Parsimonious me jumped at the deal although I didn't like the styling of the car or the colour. 

When the lease on the Subaru ended I ran into a brick wall. I couldn't decide what I wanted next. So another loaner. A client lent me his red Volvo over the summer of 1993 while he drove his summer car, an MGB. 

Next came the first car I truly loved. Really who could love a four door black Buick Skylark. Well I did and here's why. Fully loaded, sporty, lowish price, not too big and a lousy seller. It was a minor brand. There were few on the road. I liked driving something few others did. 

Then came seven bland years followed by seven zingy years. 

My uninspired period started with a used black Oldsmobile Intrigue. Loaded but dull. That was replaced by another Oldsmobile, a ho-hum grey Alero. 

The blue Honda I got in 2003 had been on my mind since I'd seen one in a showroom a year earlier. A hologram of the car was like a flatworm in my brain that wouldn't leave until I bought the car. 

The zingy years started when I picked up the lease on a ruby red 2 door Jeep Wrangler. 

Finally after seven years of dull I was driving a car that excited me. It was a dilly of a car. I rode high on the road above the fray. It had the panache of it's off road capability. 

And like P1800 owners Jeep drivers wave at  their confreres on the road. A counterculture club to complement my bourgeois life. 

At some point Margie, my wife, and I decided we needed a four door Jeep to schlep our grandchildren hither and yon. So I sold the red 2 door Jeep to my son and purchased a gun metal grey four door version. Which I liked as well, except the colour which wore on me quickly.  

Two years later my son and I swapped Jeeps when he had his first child and needed a back seat so I had my ruby red beauty back.

The zingy time lasted until 2015 when the rough ride of the Jeep was mashing my aging bones. 

After a lot of research I chose the top rated compact SUV, the Honda HRV, in a fresh sea green. 

I really liked the car from the inside. Nice faux leather seats. Good sound system. A magic seat in the back that created lots of space to move things. But boy did I hate the car from the outside. It should have been called pukey green not sea green. I was apoplectic at what a bad decision I had made.

As often happens Margie bailed me out. We traded cars. I got her white Toyota Rav4 which was ok enough for me. She loves the sea green HRV. 

It's now a couple of years later and I've replaced the Rav 4 with a Mazda CX 3 which is the second rated compact SUV. 

The CX 3 may be the perfect choice for my 71 year old body and psyche. It's relatively low priced. Sporty, fast with firm steering. There's not many on the road. It has a bit of a bad ass design.

And, oh yeah, it's white, a colour I still like a year later.