Chatting with my parents on the phone today, I discovered that my dad is selling the gorgeous old convertible, that he inherited from his dad, on eBay. I think I last drove this car more than 10 years ago, the first time I learned to drive stick shift, right after getting my drivers license in high school. Now, I say the first time I learned stick because I re-learned how to drive manual and got a heck of a lot more comfortable with it about 3 years later, in college, on a different car -- still learning from my dad, but on a Honda from the late 90's(?), rather than on the gorgeous old Mercedes from the early 60's that he was rather (and rightfully) protective of. The second time, on the Honda, I got comfortable driving it every day to and from the girl scout camp where I was working all summer. The first time, on the Mercedes, it was just around a parking lot, around a cemetery, around a park -- not on any major roads -- after I had already gotten comfortable on an automatic. That time it was mainly so that I'd get the theory down and be ABLE TO DO IT rather than be comfortable with it, I think. I've written before (even just in my last entry) about my dad's insistence (and my subsequent gratitude) that everyone should know how to drive a manual transmission car.
I can't claim to be a car person in the sense of knowing tons about different cars or having a big mechanical aptitude -- I don't really know anything more technical than how to (and this is just in theory because I've never done it, only watched) change a tire or change oil. However, I *am* a car person in the fact that when I see a gorgeous car, I stop and look and drool a bit (usually figuratively, that, but only usually). I appreciate how beautiful they can be, and how lovely they are when they are running just as they should, and when a lovely car in the street, or on a television show to which I am semi-guiltily addicted, or on a website I'm browsing, or wherever, I can't help but stop and admire it. And I truly enjoy driving (though not in heavy traffic, no one likes driving in traffic). Give me a nice, hilly, up and down country road; or the twists and turns of CA-1 up the coast; or honestly just the car radio and a bit of lightly traffic'ed interstate through Pennsylvania to let loose my thoughts, and I'm content. I drove about 1400 miles from Cambridge to Manchester, to Edinburgh, to the Isle of Skye and back one over a period of a week this past summer. Parts of it were miserable, with stop and go traffic, and of course driving for LONG periods of time -- especially driving manual -- left me stiff and with a sore left leg. But the parts where I was flying through the Scottish countryside? Or driving around Skye's coast, occasionally stopping and admiring vistas? Those parts were utterly fantastic. Partly because of my love of travel and seeing new sites, but also partly because of that feeling of "WHEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!"
The number one purchase I think about if someone asks me what I'd do if I ever won the lotto (not that I actually ever play the lotto unless my grandfather gives me a scratch off ticket) is an increasingly detailed dream car. And the image of that dream car is based off of this one. This car -- the one that my grandparents used to drive up to our house when I was little; that's been sitting in my parent's garage since I was about 16 -- old enough to be thinking more seriously about learning to drive and getting my license and whatnot. This car has been around all my life and all my formulative years regarding car beauty. This dream car that I shall purchase first thing with my imaginary lotto winnings, in case anyone is interested, is a sporty little convertible with has a body shape that looks suspiciously like this car -- only with all the amenities that one wants in a car like air conditioning, a working radio, a clock, and an actual back seat. My dream car is is a lovely shade of silvery-blue; is one of those cars that can be driven either in manual or automatic -- because manual is FUN in the right situations, but you sure don't want to drive one uphill in a city with stop and go traffic; is a hybrid -- because the other car, the *automatic* car, that I learned to drive on was a Prius, and I like to be environmentally conscientious and gas prices are only going up and yes in this fantasy I've already won the lotto but still.
Anyway, I am kind of hoping my dad doesn't sell it before I visit home at the end of the month, since I'd love to take it out for one spin in the cemetery or something, just because DAMN. How often do you get to drive that kind of car? (Damn in the "ain't that fine" sense, not in the "cursing the world" sense). Like I said, I don't think I've been allowed to drive it in 10 years -- it rarely came out of the garage, for one thing, except for the occasional 'Fall leaf drive' and other quiet meanderings through the park. I certainly don't begrudge him of it if he sells it off before that, though -- I mean, I certainly could have asked before this to drive it again. I'm pretty sure I even have, a few times, but again, he's been protective of it and I'm not on the insurance or anything as a driver and I haven't had all that much stick practice in the past few years. But. It would be nice. And I *have* been practicing my stick shift lately, even if it was with the opposite hand and on the wrong side of the road. So maybe. We shall see. Either way, it will be sad when it goes. It's a lovely car. But hopefully it will go to someone who will appreciate it, who will fix it up and take it nice places, and who will keep it in good condition, and will be able to spend time enjoying it.
