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Car Standards

Carhenge, NE

I took this photo at “Carhenge” in Nebraska, when my college roommate and I took a super-touristy road trip from Portland, OR to Kalamazoo, MI

I’ve had my current truck since I was 17. I’m 25 now. I loved my truck in high school and college (though I did leave him at home for the first three years). Even my first year out of school when I had to get three new tire changes because I kept running over curbs. After all, that wasn’t the truck’s fault.

Then two years ago, I had some major repairs and ended up financing about $1000, and making some more repairs for $400 a couple months later.

Then this January, I needed a new fuel pump and a few other repairs, which added up to $1200.

Right after that, the service engine light came on again.

That pretty much made me stop loving my truck.

So, I’m saving up for a new vehicle. I don’t need anything super fancy, but I have some standards. Here they are, for you to judge and amuse. Read the rest of this entry

Freddie’s Rant

So, I was going through my old writings yesterday to find some inspiration, and I found a piece I wrote a while back from the perspective of my truck. I figured it was the perfect time to post this (with some revisions) since I ran over a curb Saturday, causing me to need a new tire for the third time since November. Anyway, without further ado, Freddie’s Rant. (To see the history behind Freddie’s name, see Car History part 3: Freddie)

Well, she’s done it again. Here I am, a beautiful blue truck, and I’m stuck sitting outside on the curb for half a day without a tire. Just because she can’t pay attention when she’s making turns. I mean, first she kills my front right tire by hitting it on the curb at home all the time. Then she just wears down the front left. Honestly, that one probably wasn’t completely her fault. The tire was getting a bit old. But this time was completely her fault. That was the third curb she hit with the right rear tire in less than a week. Learn some depth perception girl!

But I’m sure it’s not even depth perception. She just doesn’t pay attention. I mean, if I had to count how many times she slams on her brakes, I would be able to count a lot higher. If she would just drive a bit less recklessly, I wouldn’t have to sleep so much in my downtime. I could flirt with the neighbor trucks. I could have time to share stories of our adventures. As it is, she is making me old, fast. Is it time to retire yet?

Car History Part 2: Thelma


One good thing about the period where I hadn’t had my car was that I made really good friends with my co-workers. School was closer to work than my house, so I would usually walk there straight from school if I worked, which put me there an hour early. So I hung out in the lobby and joked around with whoever was working. But on days when I worked later, or on weekends, I still had to walk. It was a cold winter. I ended up being sick almost all of January, and missing out on some shifts because of it. That was not helping my car fund.

Finally, in April, my mechanic called. He knew we were looking for a car, and one of his customers was looking to sell his. I was excited beyond belief. I was getting a car! It was another Oldsmobile, a white LSS. Dale, my mechanic, checked it out for me and made sure it was in good condition before we bought it. I had to make some payments, because the insurance money wasn’t enough to cover it, but it was the best deal we were going to get. Once again, I had a car.

I named her Thelma, because she was an old lady. I had not seen Thelma and Louise, but I had heard of it, and I thought Thelma was the perfect name for my car. Unfortunately, that gave her a horrible fate. Read the rest of this entry

Car History Part 1: The Crapsmobile


One of my favorite stories to tell is my car history. My truck is very dear to me, and how I came to get him is quite an entertaining story. So, I’ve decided to relate the story in 3 parts, one for each car that I’ve owned. So I hope you have some popcorn and possibly a tissue box (ok, you probably won’t need one, but I did at the time.) Here’s part one; Come back the next two days for the rest of the story.

Like every teenager, I couldn’t wait to get my driver’s license and a car. Getting a car meant freedom. It also meant I had to get a job. But before I could even start to worry about that, I had to learn to drive. Read the rest of this entry