Dedicated to the citizens of Mason County, Washington since 1886
Dedicated to the citizens of Mason County, Washington since 1886
Stories of our lives – the automobile chapter
1972 Volkswagen Super Beetle
I've bought 10 cars in life, starting at age 17. All were used, save one, and only two had any dollar value when I finished with them. All, however, have story value.
No. 1, 1977: A 1972 Volkswagen Super Beetle, which I bought for $1,200 from a used car lot in the Spokane Valley called Christian Brothers Automotive. At some point in the transaction, one of the brothers asked whether I was a Christian. Yes, I replied. "Good," he said, "we like to keep sales in the family." I asked what the car's top speed was. The Christian said, "As Christians, we believe in obeying the law, including speed limits." Within a few months, the Rolling Stones' "Exile on Main St." cassette was at top volume and in heavy rotation in that car, and being a Christian wasn't.
No. 2, 1979: An International Scout Camper, with fold-out sleepers on the side. I needed a place to sleep alone - instead of the one-room bunkhouse - because the other farmhand on the ranch that summer in Republic in Ferry County found President Ronald Reagan enthralling, and he couldn't stop yammering about him. I also found his offer of a back rub suggestive. Mel appeared three years later on national TV, being interviewed by Ed Bradley on "60 Minutes." Mel was openly challenging his eviction from the Navy because of its ban on gay service members.
No. 3, 1980: I remember little about this car, except it backfired often. A woman followed me home from work once, and upon exiting her car, she asked, "Do you know you have flames coming out of the exhaust pipe?" "Yeah," I said. Those were not good days.
No. 4, 1982: A Peugeot 504 sedan. I had no business owning this car because it was too finicky and too expensive to repair. The spark plugs were seated so deep in the engine block you needed a special socket wrench to reach them, and the car wouldn't start if the atmosphere had so much as licked its lips within the previous hour. To start the car, I'd often have to remove the distributor cap to dry the contacts, then hope it would start before the battery died. That car caused more frustration than any I've owned, but when it was freewheeling on the road, with the sunroof open and the stereo playing, it was a joy. It made the frustration worth it, like raising kids.
No. 5, 1984: A 1985 Ford Escort, my only new car. I bought it from Curley Johnson Ford in Monroe, Wash. Mr. Johnson gave me $400 for the Peugeot as a trade-in, even after I told him everything wrong with it. That fussy and thoroughly French Peugeot was never driven off that car lot.
No. 6, 1994: A black, four-door Volvo with sunroof. I test-drove it with my 2-year-old boy in the back. Alex quickly fell asleep in his car seat, which I realized was the nonfactory option I had sought in my next vehicle.
Nos. 7 and 8, 2007 to 2010: Two red Camry station wagons. The first one broke down on a city street. I pushed it a quarter-mile to a repair shop, where a doddering guy with long gray hair opened the hood, grabbed a can of compressed air and pulled its lever. The nozzle was pointed the wrong way, so he blasted air into his face, causing him to reel backward and rap his head on the underside of the hood. That car didn't survive the surgery. The second Camry went inert in Lynnwood while driving my oldest son to a Little League game. I left the car on the street, walked him to the ballpark, called a tow truck, had it towed to a shop where the diagnosis was unhappy, so I had it towed to a scrapyard, where the woman there offered to take it for free, which was a sweet deal. I ran back to the baseball game and got there in the ninth inning, giving us just enough time to set a ride home with a player's odd parents.
No. 9, 2010: A 2004 Daewoo Leganza. A news columnist with The (Tacoma) News Tribune was the only one I knew who had a Daewoo. We actively wondered whose would end first. His did.
No. 10, 2017: A 2004 Infiniti I35. I bought it in July 2017 from a young fellow named Michael Bolton, just like the character in the movie "Office Space." The car is now totaled. An SUV ran a red light and damaged the front passenger door beyond the car's value. One week later in a mall parking lot, the driver's side door got bashed, bringing a renewed symmetry to the vehicle. I don't have to worry about dents now.
Shelton-Mason County Journal & Belfair Herald
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