Car names

I have always been into naming my stuff but I'm very particular, especially about the names I give my cars.  For example, my first car was light grey Buick Skylark (yeah baby!) boxy and small. It had been my parents but later became mine.  It had some bruises and a lot of miles but my favorite feature was that in it's last year or so, if you drove over 65-70 mph it would just quit.  All the lights would come on and the car would go dead as a doornail and I'd have to pull off to the side of the road.  The trick was to wait about 45 seconds, tap it twice on the dashboard and ask, "have a nice nap?" She would fire up again without fail.  (I only know this because it's what I did the first time it happened and I never wanted to jinx it so I just did it every time.)  She became fondly known as "Cadaver."  Eventually she blew up whilst driving into my parents driveway.

My second car, and hands down my least favorite, was a Chrysler something-or-other.  It was a piece of crap and I hated it.  I got it because, well, it was my parents and later it became mine.  The only name this car deserved was "That Car" so that's what it was called.  Blech.

My third car, and to date still my favorite, was an awesome little blue honda civic station wagon.  You'll see that history will show that I really love station wagons, and blue cars.  And even though my friend Jason H once called them grocery getters I forgave him because as we all know station wagons are really oops-I-forgot-to-tell-you-I-was-coming-so-I'll-just-sleep-in-my-car-and-camp-ready wonder trucks!  So my third car was super sweet and got about 40mpg.  (Which on a side note is my beef with hybrid cars.  If they could make a car that, on regular gasoline in 1992, got 40 mpg I should be able to get a hybrid that gets at least 80.  I'm just saying).  So this car was my first not-my-parents car car and I love it.  I named him Otis Smoot.  Why you ask?  Because the dude I bought it from was name Otis Smoot and it just seemed to fit.  That's why.

On a sad note I got hosed by a woman eating a sandwich on I94 in the Twin Cities who, instead of eating said sandwich AND watching the road just ate her sandwich then rammed into a parked Utility truck going 65 miles per hour subsequently flipping horizontally in the air and taking the entire right side of Otis with her.  I tried to put a band aid on Otis (I made it out of construction paper and packing tape)but ended up having to cash her out as totalled.

My fourth car is my favorite car to speak ill of.  I was stupid, bought it on impulse, did ZERO research, and that it was a dud from the beginning is really just part of what makes it a great story.  I bought it from a guy at Little Brothers Subaru near Columbia Falls, MT who was really excited to tell me what an amazing Christian guy he was by providing many details about his selfless service.  It was a light blue Subaru Impreza (you guessed it) station wagon and named it Lloyd.  I may have been attempting to channel the mojo that was Otis Smoot but like many efforts to bring back the dead, it backfired HUGE!

After driving it from the dealer to camp I was asked to run back into Kalispell to pick up a few things for the Wilderness Program.  I parked the car, picked up the goods, went back to the car and...it was dead.  Deader than dead.  It wasn't the battery, there was a juice for the radio and lights but it wouldn't do anything.  I had it towed to a garage and was told it was, well, a cadre of different things. The repair was going to total almost as much as I had paid for it so I figured I should call the dude at Little Bros and let him know he sold me a used lemon.  He told me it wasn't his responsibility to take care of cars he's already sold.  I tried to argue that considering it was merely hours before that I had purchased the car he might want to do the right thing and realize he sold me a dud.  In a nut shell he told me tough luck and to buzz off (those were not his exact words *grin*).  Real selfless there bucko.  Anyhoo.

I kept the piece-o-junk for about a year which made great story telling for the kids in my youth group who were always excited to hear what had fallen off Lloyd since I'd seen them last. My buddies Doug and Josh wrote a song about how I changed the cars name from Lloyd to "The Bitch."  I eventually sold it on consignment and was forced to flee the scene when one fateful evening I was departing the video rental store only to hear Lloyd coming from the distance.  When it pulled up in front of me I almost wet my pants and fainted but opted to run away instead.

So after Lloyd/Bitch the story gets a little dull because I married a nice guy who hadn't bought pieces of crap for cars. Or station wagons for that matter.  For a couple of years I lived blissfully sans car drama. However, about six years ago Mike and I bought a nice little black VW station wagon *sigh* but have never really been able to come up with a name for it.  Until recently.

The VW is one of those amazing little cars that has (as my friend Doug likes to say about his really small dog) a very BIG personality.  I can fit anything in my little car.  I once went to look at a couch from Craigslist and upon seeing it and realizing it was the greatest couch of all time I told the lady I'd buy it.  She asked me if I was going to come back and bring a truck to which I replied, "No, it's going in my car."  She laughed at me until I drug out the montage that is my own little stash MacGyver gear and realized I was serious.  After making the final adjustments she asked me to take a picture and send it to her because her husband would never believe some girl drove away with it in a Volkswagon Jetta.  BOOYEAH!

 

I heart MacGyver

It's been six years and the lil treasure never fails me.  It's like that bag Hermoine carries around in the last Harry Potter series, it's the size of a purse but it holds a circus tent! As a result I've finally decided on a name.  "Hogwarts" nickname "The Hog."

My last lil' snipped (thanks for sticking with me) was my pre-mid-life-crisis purchase.  A Blue 1974 International Scout II named "Stella".  She came with the name and after trying "Beulah" on for size for a couple of weeks she became once again firmly identified as Stella.  I drove her from Colorado to MN.  When I left CO she had twelve hoses attached.  When I arrived in MN she had four.  She was a beast and I loved her.  She was also grossly impractical and after I got pregnant I sold her to a super nice guy from Omaha, who I think painted her black.

I think everyone should name their cars.  Do you?