2001-10-02 - 1:08 p.m.

Cat Car

I'm not talking about the last two Cheerios either ... er, that probably needs a quick explanation. When I was a kid, my grandmother would feed me Cheerios for breakfast. Like most kids I really didn't want to waste time eating, but like most adults my folks and grandparents worried about my picky eating habbits. Each spoonful of Cheerios was some sort of car or truck. The second to last spoon was the "Kitty Car". You know, that car that all the cats drive around in. The very last was a bicycle or motorcycle. :9

My Cat Car

When I was in high school I was in an "honors" program, where the school lined out which classes you would take. Unfortunately there wasn't that much room for fine arts classes and I wanted to play in the orchrestra all four years. This meant that the summer between my sophomore and junior years that I needed to take summer school. The summer school was located on the other side of the town. Instead of driving me to and fro each day my folks bought me my first car, a 1967 Mercury Cougar.

Think big fast looking Mustang. The car was a nightmare. I had to spend just about every other weekend trying to fix it, but in the process I learned a lot about automobiles.

In fact, I have zero respect for people who don't own cars telling me to wash my car or offering other advice, when they've never had to deal with the other responsiblities of automobile ownership: paying insurance, paying gas, changing your oil, keeping the rest of the fluids in check, etc. etc.

The car lasted me through highschool, undergraduate life, and graduate school. OK that is part true. When I was in Texas for my undergraduate degree, I left my Cougar behind in California. I really only used it during the summer.

But since I could afford a real car when I started working for the state, I bought my second car, the 2000 Mustang, from a dealership immediately when I realized that my Cougar was breaking down.

Fix and Sell

Last weekend while working on my car in the city street (remember I was trying to get it off the street before the police would tow it), two different people asked me if I was planning on selling it. One guy seemed nice enough, but right now I'm more interested in fixing my Cougar up and selling it to a 15 year old girl who's mom came and talked to me.

As strange as it sounds the real reason I didn't sell my Cat Car two years ago was because I'm attached to it. BTW cars do have genders, it just happens that my Cat Car is an it (like many male cats become). ;) I never gave my car a name, because for all these years I was waiting for it to give me its own name. Weird, huh?

It means a lot to me that whomever buys the Cat Car is somebody who likes the look, feel, and most of all ... the smell of old Fords. I could drive the car just by listening to the engine (which I build). I could tell if a problem was about to occur often by the feel of the car. But I also needed my dad's help to maintain the car.

The girl came over while I was working and told me that she loved the way the car looked and for several months has been wanting to wash the car. I realized when she said that (she was washing her parent's two cars at the time) that she really did appreciate the car.

It is sort of the feeling you have when you turn over a pet. You want the new owner to appreciate and love your pet. I feel this way about my car.

She won't be ready to drive until this summer, but if I can get the car running this fall, then I'll gladly hold onto it for a few months. I would even be willing to sell the car pretty damn cheap to her, because I have this feeling that she'd take far better care of the car than most other people.