My first two cars were hand-me-downs; the first got me through high school and college, while the second got me through grad school and into the first month of my first teaching job. I'd resolved I would buy a car once I had a steady job, but when the poor Oldsmobile started to die, system by system, that forced my hand.
One afternoon in early September 2000, I stopped by a Chevy dealer in Fort Lauderdale, and what started out as a test drive ended a few hours and several signatures later with me driving home a Cavalier coupe, only 137 miles on it. I can still remember that feeling as I headed out in this new car - the excitement of having done something so grown-up, that "I can't believe I'm doing this" feeling, and that slight sinking feeling, knowing I'd pledged the next five years of my life to making payments. Still, it was a hell of a feeling.
This was my first new car and I vowed not to screw it up. From the start the little one has had regular routine service. Sometimes I've gone for the full dealership service; others, it's been at a quick-lube place. I'll dump a bottle of fuel injector cleaner in the gas tank after each oil change, and in return I've yet to have a drivetrain failure. Most of what's had to be replaced has come about the time you'd expect to have to replace those components.
In return, the little one has given me 13 years and 147,000 miles of memories. We've been to six states; we've made numerous runs to Fort Lauderdale and back, and even traversed the Everglades. We used to battle traffic in Miami every working day, fighting the Turnpike and the Golden Glades; now, most of our time together is on the back roads that take me to the town where I work. We've been through torrential rain, high winds, snow, ice and mud. That car has taken me to some really splendid events, and brought me home on a few anguished occasions. We have a lot of shared history, and know each other well.
And 13 years later, the little one is still going strong and looks good. I chose a silver Cavalier, knowing what happens to bright colors over time, and that decision has paid off. As for major modifications? Not for me. I may have daydreamed about putting disc brakes on all four corners and getting some new wheels, but never followed through. Instead, the only alterations have been to swap the stock filter cartridge with a "lifetime" unit, and a new radio six years ago. Some people like to tinker with their J-body cars, but I'm content to leave mine be.
Well, almost.
That's because she's starting to show her age a little. The dashboard has cracked in the manner common to these cars. The lining on the rear shelf is fried and coming apart in chunks. The visors are fraying. One of the front splash shields is chipped, thanks to some road debris. The plastic headlight and corner marker lenses are foggy and brittle; when I replaced the corner marker bulbs recently, the plastic developed stress fractures when I removed the units. Some of the plastic trim has had its paint deteriorate with time and elements. The windshield washer system had a massive leak in its plumbing. And I now have a permanent ABS system warning on the instrument panel.
You might think, "Those are the signs you may as well buy a new car." But not me. Not only am I cheap, but I'm loyal. And nothing's mechanically wrong with the little one; the little engine ticks along as happily as it did the first day, and gets routine care. Why mess with what works? So I did some investigating, and found I could fix or repair most all those problems for minimum investment and a little elbow grease. I'm of the mind that laying out $300 one time for a box of parts will beat five years of a $300 monthly payment.
So that's what I did. I fired off an order to an auto parts supplier for new light lenses, a dashboard cap, and new splash guards. The visors and rear deck will be a simple weekend project; all you need are the right fabric and adhesives. Touching up the stone chips will be easy, too. Likewise, redoing the plastic trim will be a simple task; I have everything I need, and a weekend when I can keep the car at home will be perfect.
About the only thing I'm not sure about is the anti-lock brake problem. I have a hunch the system's a casualty of our dusty dirt roads. I'll have to pull off the wheels anyway to swap out the splash shields, and while the car's up on the jackstands I'll check the sensors and wiring, and give everything a good cleaning. And if none of that will solve the problem...well, my first two cars didn't have ABS, so I know what to do. I'd like to have it working, but if it's going to be an expensive fix I'll just make do with regular brakes.
But other things are simplicity itself to fix. The washer system? Guy at one of the auto parts stores gave me a short piece of rubber hose left over from another job. Back home, I cut the frayed segments off the system's broken tube and spliced in the rubber hose. Worked perfectly.
Other things tempt me. The radio has been acting a little funny of late, and I would like a more modern iPod interface, so why not put in a new one? Maybe with satellite radio capabilities? And why not some new speakers to go with it? Maybe it'll happen.
Maybe it's daffy to put this kind of time and effort into a 13-year-old car with close to 150,000 miles and no real book value (seriously, I've wondered if my insurer would total it if it got dented by a runaway shopping cart). I'd respond, though, that while this car may not be valuable, it does have the benefit of being paid for, and running well. As long as the little car wants to take care of me, I'll be happy to take care of it.
I owe the little beast that much.
One afternoon in early September 2000, I stopped by a Chevy dealer in Fort Lauderdale, and what started out as a test drive ended a few hours and several signatures later with me driving home a Cavalier coupe, only 137 miles on it. I can still remember that feeling as I headed out in this new car - the excitement of having done something so grown-up, that "I can't believe I'm doing this" feeling, and that slight sinking feeling, knowing I'd pledged the next five years of my life to making payments. Still, it was a hell of a feeling.
This was my first new car and I vowed not to screw it up. From the start the little one has had regular routine service. Sometimes I've gone for the full dealership service; others, it's been at a quick-lube place. I'll dump a bottle of fuel injector cleaner in the gas tank after each oil change, and in return I've yet to have a drivetrain failure. Most of what's had to be replaced has come about the time you'd expect to have to replace those components.
In return, the little one has given me 13 years and 147,000 miles of memories. We've been to six states; we've made numerous runs to Fort Lauderdale and back, and even traversed the Everglades. We used to battle traffic in Miami every working day, fighting the Turnpike and the Golden Glades; now, most of our time together is on the back roads that take me to the town where I work. We've been through torrential rain, high winds, snow, ice and mud. That car has taken me to some really splendid events, and brought me home on a few anguished occasions. We have a lot of shared history, and know each other well.
And 13 years later, the little one is still going strong and looks good. I chose a silver Cavalier, knowing what happens to bright colors over time, and that decision has paid off. As for major modifications? Not for me. I may have daydreamed about putting disc brakes on all four corners and getting some new wheels, but never followed through. Instead, the only alterations have been to swap the stock filter cartridge with a "lifetime" unit, and a new radio six years ago. Some people like to tinker with their J-body cars, but I'm content to leave mine be.
Well, almost.
That's because she's starting to show her age a little. The dashboard has cracked in the manner common to these cars. The lining on the rear shelf is fried and coming apart in chunks. The visors are fraying. One of the front splash shields is chipped, thanks to some road debris. The plastic headlight and corner marker lenses are foggy and brittle; when I replaced the corner marker bulbs recently, the plastic developed stress fractures when I removed the units. Some of the plastic trim has had its paint deteriorate with time and elements. The windshield washer system had a massive leak in its plumbing. And I now have a permanent ABS system warning on the instrument panel.
You might think, "Those are the signs you may as well buy a new car." But not me. Not only am I cheap, but I'm loyal. And nothing's mechanically wrong with the little one; the little engine ticks along as happily as it did the first day, and gets routine care. Why mess with what works? So I did some investigating, and found I could fix or repair most all those problems for minimum investment and a little elbow grease. I'm of the mind that laying out $300 one time for a box of parts will beat five years of a $300 monthly payment.
So that's what I did. I fired off an order to an auto parts supplier for new light lenses, a dashboard cap, and new splash guards. The visors and rear deck will be a simple weekend project; all you need are the right fabric and adhesives. Touching up the stone chips will be easy, too. Likewise, redoing the plastic trim will be a simple task; I have everything I need, and a weekend when I can keep the car at home will be perfect.
About the only thing I'm not sure about is the anti-lock brake problem. I have a hunch the system's a casualty of our dusty dirt roads. I'll have to pull off the wheels anyway to swap out the splash shields, and while the car's up on the jackstands I'll check the sensors and wiring, and give everything a good cleaning. And if none of that will solve the problem...well, my first two cars didn't have ABS, so I know what to do. I'd like to have it working, but if it's going to be an expensive fix I'll just make do with regular brakes.
But other things are simplicity itself to fix. The washer system? Guy at one of the auto parts stores gave me a short piece of rubber hose left over from another job. Back home, I cut the frayed segments off the system's broken tube and spliced in the rubber hose. Worked perfectly.
Other things tempt me. The radio has been acting a little funny of late, and I would like a more modern iPod interface, so why not put in a new one? Maybe with satellite radio capabilities? And why not some new speakers to go with it? Maybe it'll happen.
Maybe it's daffy to put this kind of time and effort into a 13-year-old car with close to 150,000 miles and no real book value (seriously, I've wondered if my insurer would total it if it got dented by a runaway shopping cart). I'd respond, though, that while this car may not be valuable, it does have the benefit of being paid for, and running well. As long as the little car wants to take care of me, I'll be happy to take care of it.
I owe the little beast that much.