A Car Story

See, so, remember when I used to complain about the myriad of vehicles parked in our "side driveway" that don't run? Apparently, the non-running-vehicles only bothers me when those vehicles are either a) not mine, or b) not sexy.

I'm a Nissan (or Datsun!) lover. My Magic Bus is a Nissan Quest. It reminds me of my first vehicle, a vehicle I had trouble finding on the internet because it is called - I shit you not - a "Vanette", and I never knew that. Here's some info on it, and if you picture this all decked out with every bell and whistle you can imagine (including a fridge!) (and TWO sunroofs!), and blue with a white stripe down each side (unfortunate first-car accidents provided by both my brother and myself) and a mirror that sorta just hung on around the drivers' side, that was my baby, exactly. The Partybus. I would love to have a picture, but I don't.

Nissan recalled that vehicle in 1994; I didn't really pay attention to the deets back then, but it seemed that it was prone to catching fire; I do know that they (Nissan) gave me a shit-wad of money for a pretty old piece o' crap, so I was happy; I then put that money into a Sentra. Which I wrecked, then bled of oil and kept driving, blah blah blah, cracked engine block, blah blah blah, Toyota Camry. I'm a spoiled little bitch. Moving on.

Anyway, so I missed my little Nissans all this time, and Janie had herself a little Nissan (she has since graduated to ownership of the Camry, herself), but again, my Magic Bus has brought me back into the land.

But I kind of forgot why my family was so Datsun/Nissan devoted. I mean, face it- my mom, my brother, and I all owned Sentras at some point or another (Smurf mobile, if you must know), most of my childhood. I believe my mom burned through TWO Sentras between my ages of, say, 7 and 18. Mine did not last that long, but I am told (since) that cars do prefer oil to run. Good to know.

I realized recently, that it was all due to one thing; my father. My dad was never a "car guy", never into hot rods or fast cars or Cameros or the like. My father once said that his most masculine car to date was a Camry. For Christ Sake. But once upon a time, my father did have a dream car, and he told me about it.

It's a "Z", he said. It's the fastest car on Earth. And he pointed it out and showed it to me, in its shiny blue splendor. I knew it was a Datsun, but I didn't really care beyond that. It was cute. Dad loved that car, even though he probably has forgotten all about that by now. He's an Infinity driver, though, and that's like Nissan-for-grown-ups, so maybe not. Anyway...

On Halloween, Husband called me. "Tell me we don't need a Z-Car," he said. "What year?", I said. "1981. T-Top. Blue", he said. "How much," I said. "$400," he said. "Offer them $300 and see what they say," I said. Anybody can recover from $300. I've spent more than that at the Yankee Candle Outlet in Mass, for Christ Sake.

He bought it. I went to see it. Her. I took her picture:

It won't be perfect for a long while. We'll need to first drop a clutch into her before she can even go on the road. And fix that tire. But those are easy.

A few fuel lines and new interior upholstery, and she'll be awesome.

A clear coat and her blue will be restored - her body is in pretty good shape, just a ding here or there.

She's beautiful, isn't she? He wants to name her Elinor.

There are two sad points to this story; Elinor has only two seats, thereby, she is not kid-friendly. Which is actually kind of cool. But she also (appropriately) has a stick shift, and I don't know how to drive her. Which kind of sucks. I mean, I'll learn, but... it's likely that Husband will get to have her as "his car". Beanie will get the Piece of Shit that we bought for Husband, the one that is half purple, half primer. It's some ford crap, but it runs very well, and it's a decent first car for Beanie.

But... Elinor...