My first car was a Volkswagen Beetle I bought for $95 from a friend's father. I was sixteen, just got my learner's permit, riding an orange and black Jawa Moped everywhere and Mike's old man offered me a non-running Bug for under $100. I bit, thinking I can fix it. I no longer remember what was actually wrong with the car. I can't even remember what color it was. Mike's father made it seem no big deal, a dead battery? a blown radiator? We got rope and tied the VW's front bumper to Mike's father's Ford's front bumper and he towed me from North Lindenhurst to just south of Montauk Highway, a distance of maybe three miles. I was able to steer and brake but coming down my block, South 5th, something spooked me and I hit the brakes too hard. The Ford tore the VW's bumper clean off and I came to a slow rolling stop one hundred feet from my house. Mike's father got out of his car and yelled at me, right in front of John Watt's house. Then he helped me push the Bug to a spot in front of my house, where the damn thing sat until a few months later when my mother insisted I have it towed away. I got $50 for it from a local junkyard, not the first time I'd lose money on a car.
My second car was an orange-gold 1967 Mercury Cougar, the first year for the model. I paid Billy K. $300 for it a few months after the VW went south. It didn't have a single body panel without dents, the famous sequential tail-lights never really worked properly and the goddamn hood would fly up if I managed to hit 50 mph or better. The second time it happened I realized it wasn't a fluke and used a bicycle cable to lock it closed. Locking and unlocking the hood quickly became a pain in the ass. That was the car I hit the school bus with. I was waiting at a light to make a left onto Railroad Ave. from Wellwood and gunned it when the light went green. The car didn't have a limited-slip differential (what's called "Posi-Traction" in a General Motors product) so it spun to the left smack dab into a school bus waiting for the light. The accident could've turned out much worse for me but the woman driving the bus was a good friend of my sister's and she pretty much let me off the hook. I don't even think she called the police...
The Cougar lasted a little less than a year and then it was time to go searching yet again for another set of cheap, serviceable wheels. Because my brother Mario was a Mopar man (and a mechanic) I thought I should go with a Chrysler, Plymouth or Dodge. I found a 1971 Plymouth Satellite Sebring in the Pennysaver and paid somewhere around $500 for it. It was a sweet little ride - powered by the venerable 318 - and every time I jumped behind the wheel I felt like Richard Petty in his famous number 43 stock car. I had just put about $800 worth of work into the car when a kid in an AMC Pacer hit me head on as I headed to Music Land to buy a set of strings for my guitar. The bad news? The Satellite was totalled. The good news: I sued the kid in Small Claims Court and got my $800 back.
I set out to find another Satellite and ended up with a green '73, for around $700. The less said about that piece of crap.the better.
After the debacle of the '73 Satellite I went backwards in time yet again and scooped up a 1970 Chrysler Newport. It was cream with a black vinyl roof and the largest car I'd ever owned, even though it was a two door. The damn thing was fast, though: the 383 under the hood moved it along nicely. I was coming back from CBGBs one night when the power died, the car went dark and I was left sitting at the side of the road for a few hours waiting for a tow truck. There had been an electrical fire beneath the dashboard, all the wiring burnt up and my mechanic told me to get rid of it. I did. I also took a break from Mopars when I noticed my mechanic had a 1971 rust-brown 4-door Chevy Impala for sale for an obscene price: $100.
The Impala was the only car I've ever owned A) which had working air-conditioning and B) on which I actually MADE money. I drove it for six months or so and then got broadsided coming back from my friend Mike's house one night. The damage was confined to the driver's side rear door and the car was still very driveable but the other guy's insurance company still coughed up $600. The Impala suffered a cracked head not too long after and also ended up in the local junkyard.
I took the $600 and bought my one and only Cadillac: a black 1966 Sedan DeVille. It had something shy of 80,000 miles on it and was in nearly pristine shape. It had power everything and I installed a custom sound-system, a removeable Panasonic cassette deck and some Pioneer 6 x 9 speakers in the rear deck. The first tape I popped in was a Black Sabbath compilation tape and I still remember cranking that thing up as loud as it would go while banging my head to Supernaut. The Caddy got a lousy 7 miles to the gallon and lasted me just about 30 days. I demolished it when I came around a bend on Woodhaven Blvd. in Queens and hit a four-foot-by-four-foot stack of Daily News Sunday editions, being unloaded from a van into the right lane by two guys, one of whom I thought I killed when he jumped out of the way. What can I say? It was 4 in the morning, the roadway was dark and I just didn't see them. Luckily, no one was injured and the cops were very nice - which is more than I can say for my mother. When I woke her up with my frantic phone call, she screamed into the phone, "DIDN'T I TELL YOU NOT TO DRIVE IN QUEENS?!" I managed to talk my mechanic into driving out from Long Island and towing me all the way back. I sold the Caddy for parts, earning back $400.
NEXT WEEK: A return to Mopar...
sweet story... looking forward to the continuation
Posted by: Dave B. | January 05, 2007 at 09:57 AM
It's sorta like Chris being back on the air, except I can't call in with my crappy car sagas. Man, I miss Aerial View.
Posted by: Dim Reaper | January 05, 2007 at 10:34 AM
Fair Dinkum Mate,you have no luck with cars,I suggest pissing in your boot and swimming....But you would probally drown!!,Good luck and a funny read,LOL.
Posted by: Val | April 13, 2007 at 12:43 PM
you fucking son of a bitch. i wish i had yr car ownership history. my first car was a piece of shit. now i have a 1970 challenger. and i am motherfucking crazy. you fuck with me and i'll knife you.
Posted by: the real will | May 02, 2009 at 10:33 PM