My New Car is Sexy, Kind of Smells Like Wet Dog
As many of you may already know, I have finally rid myself of what should be the last minivan that I ever own.
"Not fucking likely," you say?
You may be right. After all, the old man's new Chrysler Town & Country has a furious beast of an engine, satellite radio, a sun roof, leather seats, and a sleek, jet-black coat of paint. It's a beautiful ride, and when the sun hits it right and the clouds are reflected in the windows, it almost looks like a futuristic speed-zeppelin floating in from Back to the Future II. But I didn't come here to talk about the old man's love affair with large vehicles with loose suspension and his tendency to dump them off on me, oh no. I've come here to talk about my sexy new Honda.
But first, let's take an epic trip back through time and pay tribute to the life and death of my former vehicles. Excuse me while I wax nostalgic.
"Lucy the Lemon" - Ford Taurus - 19xx
Lucy the Lemon was so named because in the three months after purchasing it, the old man put well over $3,000 into it to keep it operating. I believe the parents probably bought it for Mezzo in the summer before I turned 16 with the expectation that once summer was over, Mezz0 would be back at school in Minnesota and I would begin learning how to drive. What they didn't plan on was grounding me for almost the entirety of my 16th year of life. Since I was forbidden to go anywhere, I had no desire to learn how to drive and felt that making my mother escort me to hockey practice/games for two different teams almost every day of the week was a sufficient retaliation against their harsh punishments. I ended up getting my license the following summer. Lucy was a faithful companion for most of the school year, up until I crashed it into a fire hydrant in my own neighborhood on the way to the year-end hockey banquet. I took my eyes off the road to pick up a spilled softpack of cigarettes down by my feet (a groundable offense) and things went kind of shitty. The hydrant destroyed the front end of the car and ended up lodged under the front axle. Despite the hydrant being dislodged, absolutely no water came rushing out from the underground pipes. All of this taught me a valuable lesson about the inability of vehicles to turn while braking in the rain, the inaccuracy of Hollywood action movies, and the poor structural quality of soft packs. Lucy was sent off to a salvage yard. I managed to remove all smoking paraphernalia except one cigarette. Somehow, I escaped punishment.
"The Convertible" aka "The Old Person Car" - Oldsmobile 98 - 1990
Now this was a beautiful, powerful, luxurious machine. Power windows, power locks, power seats, electronic thermometer, electronic trip meter, faux leather seats, a huge fucking engine, and terrible speakers. It also had a maroon fabric top on the exterior. It was the kind of fabric top that Cadillac and Oldsmobile used to make exclusively for their committed elderly drivers. Mezz0 and I had a longstanding joke in which we would comment any time we saw an old man drive by in one of these rides, "Check out that sweet convertible!" As one might expect, I received this car after my elderly uncle died. It carried his unique musk up until the last day I drove it. I still smile when I think back and picture myself cruising around the suburbs wearing an old-person hat, windows down, blasting Beethoven's 9th Symphony with crackling speakers. Goldschlager tucked under the passenger seat, Sherlock Holmes pipe stuffed in the passenger seat pocket…pulling up to a stop light and watching soccer moms roll up their windows ("Fucking kids with their fucking music!"). Once, while driving stoned in a mild snow storm, I ran over a mailbox and a recycling bin in our neighborhood. The bin got stock to the underside of the engine so I tried steering wildly back and forth on my way home, hoping that it would break free. It did not, but, luckily, little damage was done to the car...from then on it did, however, always smell like burning plastic after driving it for a couple of miles. I loved that ride more than I can describe with words and it was a blast to drive. Tragically, before leaving to go to school in Minnesota something happened to the power steering. My parents, for no fucking reason at all, decided not to have it fixed or even to have it looked at. I was heartbroken and still blame this incident for my poor grades and forcible withdrawal from school following my first semester at college.
"The Lizard King" aka "LZDKNG 6" - Plymouth Voyager - 1994
After getting booted from college I had to move back home and save up for a new ride before I could move back out. I ended up buying the old man's van. It leaked a ton of oil. It had a slow leak in a rear wheel. It was green. The rear bench seat inside was removed for a more industrial appearance. It had upgraded Sony Xplode Speakers. It had a 10 disc CD changer. Remarkably, the only body damage it had were scratches on the hood from my drunken attempt to see just how much force it would take to open a locked gate leading into a park. Most of the time there were 10-20 discarded cans of PBR and Sparks littering the back amid empty packs of Camel Lights. I drove it to Vermont. I drove it to Washington state (with only one rear shock absorber on the return trip, which included hilly Rocky Mountain roads). I drove it to Indiana. I drove it to about 18 Phish shows and a handful of music festivals. I spent countless nights sleeping in the back. When I ran out of marijuana, I could usually just do a little digging and find a bud laying around somewhere. I drove it from 130,000 to over 210,000 miles over about six years and the Lizard King lived up Jim Morrison's line, "I am the Lizard King, I can do anything." The only repair work that I ever had done to it was a new transmission at 140,000 miles and I had to have a new rear window installed when the original one shattered. I learned to change brakes and rotors. I replaced the broken shock absorber. I probably spent over $4,000 to maintain a proper level of engine oil. It never failed me once. By the time I gave it to a Children's Charity the transmission was slipping and the rear tire was flat and frozen to the ground. If any vehicle belongs in the Hall of Fame for dependability, though, it was this beautiful green monster.
"Nameless" - Chrysler Town & Country - 2000
I hated this van & was resentful that the old man caught me when I was unemployed, broke, and the Lizard King was on its last legs. This vehicle lacked any personality and I refused to name it. I used it as a delivery vehicle in Minneapolis and have about 6 outstanding parking tickets that I will never pay. It only got 17.6 miles per gallon, the shocks were fucked up, a tire leaked, and a soccer mom hit me once while I was making a delivery (pulling a U-turn from a curbside parking space across 5 lanes of downtown rush hour traffic, passing a stopped bus in the buses/taxis only lane, and getting smacked in the side by a soccer mom making a blind left turn in front of the bus--a beautifully executed move by me if it weren't for the soccer mom--and I had to listen to a crazed worker run across the street after seeing this fantastic maneuver and offer herself as a witness--accusing ME of driving like a maniac) Some fish liquid/oil leaked out during another delivery and two years later is still smelled like rotten fish on warm days. When the transmission started leaking about a month ago I was one happy motherfucker & sold it to a friendly Mexican for $1,000. God, I am happy to be done with that fucking thing.
"The Titanium Donkey" aka "The Donkey" aka "The Donk" aka "Hi Ho Silver" aka "The Silver Stallion" aka "The Stallion" aka "The Wet Dog" aka "Dexie"- Honda Civic - 2000
In trying times such as these, it's an important thing to find a fuel efficient vehicle with a shitload of sex appeal. This, my friends, has a whole lot of both. 28 mpg city. 34 mpg highway. Sleek, sexy and banged up enough to give it a little personality. It has a sunroof, an aftermarket stereo system, a year old transmission, new brakes, new tires, new exhaust, power windows, and a smell that's difficult to put your finger on. 88,000 miles at a cost of $5500. I had to spend almost my entire poker bankroll to buy it, which is why I'm working around a donkey/horse theme for the name. If it ends up having a lot of problems I'll probably change its name to "The Flop".
I've got a few upgrades on the way. Nag Champa incense to try to permanently alter the smell by smoking out the interior. Dual 130 decibel electric disc horns to replace the worthless, dinky stock horn. A replacement keyless entry remote. Plus I'm planning on doing a little body work to remove the rusty part of the driver-side dent. Yesterday I took a plunger to the large dent and managed to pull out a surprisingly large section of the damage, it's a little warped, but it looks better than it does on this picture…I'll have to sand down the rusty outcropping part, get some rust inhibitor, and repaint it...but that shouldn't be too much trouble. And get this, the name of the car's color….Titanium Metallic. Dead. Fucking. Sexy.
After that, all I'll need is a modest spoiler and I'll be good to go. Anyone have any input for the name here?
** Update **
The horns and keyless entry remote arrived today. I managed to program the remote on my first attempt and saved $60-$70 from what a dealer would have charged.
After removing the front bumper, doing a little rewiring, and installing the new horns, I was surprised to find that I had managed to get those working on my first attempt as well...plus the bumper went back on without any difficulty.
Usually when I do this kind of shit it involves terrible frustration and eventual failure and humiliation.
As many of you may already know, I have finally rid myself of what should be the last minivan that I ever own.
"Not fucking likely," you say?
You may be right. After all, the old man's new Chrysler Town & Country has a furious beast of an engine, satellite radio, a sun roof, leather seats, and a sleek, jet-black coat of paint. It's a beautiful ride, and when the sun hits it right and the clouds are reflected in the windows, it almost looks like a futuristic speed-zeppelin floating in from Back to the Future II. But I didn't come here to talk about the old man's love affair with large vehicles with loose suspension and his tendency to dump them off on me, oh no. I've come here to talk about my sexy new Honda.
But first, let's take an epic trip back through time and pay tribute to the life and death of my former vehicles. Excuse me while I wax nostalgic.
"Lucy the Lemon" - Ford Taurus - 19xx
Lucy the Lemon was so named because in the three months after purchasing it, the old man put well over $3,000 into it to keep it operating. I believe the parents probably bought it for Mezzo in the summer before I turned 16 with the expectation that once summer was over, Mezz0 would be back at school in Minnesota and I would begin learning how to drive. What they didn't plan on was grounding me for almost the entirety of my 16th year of life. Since I was forbidden to go anywhere, I had no desire to learn how to drive and felt that making my mother escort me to hockey practice/games for two different teams almost every day of the week was a sufficient retaliation against their harsh punishments. I ended up getting my license the following summer. Lucy was a faithful companion for most of the school year, up until I crashed it into a fire hydrant in my own neighborhood on the way to the year-end hockey banquet. I took my eyes off the road to pick up a spilled softpack of cigarettes down by my feet (a groundable offense) and things went kind of shitty. The hydrant destroyed the front end of the car and ended up lodged under the front axle. Despite the hydrant being dislodged, absolutely no water came rushing out from the underground pipes. All of this taught me a valuable lesson about the inability of vehicles to turn while braking in the rain, the inaccuracy of Hollywood action movies, and the poor structural quality of soft packs. Lucy was sent off to a salvage yard. I managed to remove all smoking paraphernalia except one cigarette. Somehow, I escaped punishment.
"The Convertible" aka "The Old Person Car" - Oldsmobile 98 - 1990
Now this was a beautiful, powerful, luxurious machine. Power windows, power locks, power seats, electronic thermometer, electronic trip meter, faux leather seats, a huge fucking engine, and terrible speakers. It also had a maroon fabric top on the exterior. It was the kind of fabric top that Cadillac and Oldsmobile used to make exclusively for their committed elderly drivers. Mezz0 and I had a longstanding joke in which we would comment any time we saw an old man drive by in one of these rides, "Check out that sweet convertible!" As one might expect, I received this car after my elderly uncle died. It carried his unique musk up until the last day I drove it. I still smile when I think back and picture myself cruising around the suburbs wearing an old-person hat, windows down, blasting Beethoven's 9th Symphony with crackling speakers. Goldschlager tucked under the passenger seat, Sherlock Holmes pipe stuffed in the passenger seat pocket…pulling up to a stop light and watching soccer moms roll up their windows ("Fucking kids with their fucking music!"). Once, while driving stoned in a mild snow storm, I ran over a mailbox and a recycling bin in our neighborhood. The bin got stock to the underside of the engine so I tried steering wildly back and forth on my way home, hoping that it would break free. It did not, but, luckily, little damage was done to the car...from then on it did, however, always smell like burning plastic after driving it for a couple of miles. I loved that ride more than I can describe with words and it was a blast to drive. Tragically, before leaving to go to school in Minnesota something happened to the power steering. My parents, for no fucking reason at all, decided not to have it fixed or even to have it looked at. I was heartbroken and still blame this incident for my poor grades and forcible withdrawal from school following my first semester at college.
"The Lizard King" aka "LZDKNG 6" - Plymouth Voyager - 1994
After getting booted from college I had to move back home and save up for a new ride before I could move back out. I ended up buying the old man's van. It leaked a ton of oil. It had a slow leak in a rear wheel. It was green. The rear bench seat inside was removed for a more industrial appearance. It had upgraded Sony Xplode Speakers. It had a 10 disc CD changer. Remarkably, the only body damage it had were scratches on the hood from my drunken attempt to see just how much force it would take to open a locked gate leading into a park. Most of the time there were 10-20 discarded cans of PBR and Sparks littering the back amid empty packs of Camel Lights. I drove it to Vermont. I drove it to Washington state (with only one rear shock absorber on the return trip, which included hilly Rocky Mountain roads). I drove it to Indiana. I drove it to about 18 Phish shows and a handful of music festivals. I spent countless nights sleeping in the back. When I ran out of marijuana, I could usually just do a little digging and find a bud laying around somewhere. I drove it from 130,000 to over 210,000 miles over about six years and the Lizard King lived up Jim Morrison's line, "I am the Lizard King, I can do anything." The only repair work that I ever had done to it was a new transmission at 140,000 miles and I had to have a new rear window installed when the original one shattered. I learned to change brakes and rotors. I replaced the broken shock absorber. I probably spent over $4,000 to maintain a proper level of engine oil. It never failed me once. By the time I gave it to a Children's Charity the transmission was slipping and the rear tire was flat and frozen to the ground. If any vehicle belongs in the Hall of Fame for dependability, though, it was this beautiful green monster.
"Nameless" - Chrysler Town & Country - 2000
I hated this van & was resentful that the old man caught me when I was unemployed, broke, and the Lizard King was on its last legs. This vehicle lacked any personality and I refused to name it. I used it as a delivery vehicle in Minneapolis and have about 6 outstanding parking tickets that I will never pay. It only got 17.6 miles per gallon, the shocks were fucked up, a tire leaked, and a soccer mom hit me once while I was making a delivery (pulling a U-turn from a curbside parking space across 5 lanes of downtown rush hour traffic, passing a stopped bus in the buses/taxis only lane, and getting smacked in the side by a soccer mom making a blind left turn in front of the bus--a beautifully executed move by me if it weren't for the soccer mom--and I had to listen to a crazed worker run across the street after seeing this fantastic maneuver and offer herself as a witness--accusing ME of driving like a maniac) Some fish liquid/oil leaked out during another delivery and two years later is still smelled like rotten fish on warm days. When the transmission started leaking about a month ago I was one happy motherfucker & sold it to a friendly Mexican for $1,000. God, I am happy to be done with that fucking thing.
"The Titanium Donkey" aka "The Donkey" aka "The Donk" aka "Hi Ho Silver" aka "The Silver Stallion" aka "The Stallion" aka "The Wet Dog" aka "Dexie"- Honda Civic - 2000
In trying times such as these, it's an important thing to find a fuel efficient vehicle with a shitload of sex appeal. This, my friends, has a whole lot of both. 28 mpg city. 34 mpg highway. Sleek, sexy and banged up enough to give it a little personality. It has a sunroof, an aftermarket stereo system, a year old transmission, new brakes, new tires, new exhaust, power windows, and a smell that's difficult to put your finger on. 88,000 miles at a cost of $5500. I had to spend almost my entire poker bankroll to buy it, which is why I'm working around a donkey/horse theme for the name. If it ends up having a lot of problems I'll probably change its name to "The Flop".
I've got a few upgrades on the way. Nag Champa incense to try to permanently alter the smell by smoking out the interior. Dual 130 decibel electric disc horns to replace the worthless, dinky stock horn. A replacement keyless entry remote. Plus I'm planning on doing a little body work to remove the rusty part of the driver-side dent. Yesterday I took a plunger to the large dent and managed to pull out a surprisingly large section of the damage, it's a little warped, but it looks better than it does on this picture…I'll have to sand down the rusty outcropping part, get some rust inhibitor, and repaint it...but that shouldn't be too much trouble. And get this, the name of the car's color….Titanium Metallic. Dead. Fucking. Sexy.
After that, all I'll need is a modest spoiler and I'll be good to go. Anyone have any input for the name here?
** Update **
The horns and keyless entry remote arrived today. I managed to program the remote on my first attempt and saved $60-$70 from what a dealer would have charged.
After removing the front bumper, doing a little rewiring, and installing the new horns, I was surprised to find that I had managed to get those working on my first attempt as well...plus the bumper went back on without any difficulty.
Usually when I do this kind of shit it involves terrible frustration and eventual failure and humiliation.
posted by The Youngest at 12:25 PM
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