Tag: first car

A Tribute to Wagonsteez

We sold one of our cars yesterday. We had this car for 13 years. We tend to get attached to things, particularly things that are attached to good family memories. We bought this sleek, but safe, quick, but safe, stylish, but safe, modern station wagon when our children were in the age range of 10-2. They used to fight, for the right, to sit in the backwards facing seats, making faces at and engaging with, the drivers behind us, until they started to outgrow the seat. As the kids grew (and boy did they grow!), I moved on to the obligatory Mom’s SUV and my husband commuted to work in the wagon. Finally, it became the main car for our second son, who drove it to many soccer practices and games and proms and summer jobs and beach outings and even back and forth to his university for a couple of years. It became an extension and symbol of him and he even bought a sticker for it, saying Wagonsteez, a monniker that he proudly shared with this car that he loved. Since both of the middle boys are at the same university this year, we no longer had a need for this extra car and at 192,000 miles, it had more than fulfilled its faithful duty to us. It had seen us safely through family trips, through rain, sleet and snow, and all the while being reliable, and safe, with a timeless, classic style that still made it sell-able after all of these years and adventures. We texted our children (with lumps in our throats) that we had sold that wagon last night. My son, “Wagonsteez”, replied only “In My Heart Forever.”

“A car isn’t a classic just because it’s old. To be a classic, a car has to tell us something of its time.” – James May 

Driving Through The Gates

Today my eldest son is buying his first, “on his own, as an adult” car. This will be his first major purchase since obtaining a regular, “adult” paycheck. My grandmother generously gifted my son her car when he got his driver’s license. From then on, he drove that car or one of our cars or a rental car that his company gave to him to use, during a long training process. However, he just received a nice promotion and he needs his own car.

Who doesn’t remember their first adult car? Mine was a little red Miata convertible. My dad called it my “Barbie Car.” I lived in Pittsburgh at the time and it was perfect . . . in the summer. One winter, it was so snowy we had to dig through the snow to find it. The Miata was so tiny that it had been completely covered in snow. One time my sister was driving it and she got it stuck. Four guys from the local high school football team were able to lift it up and out of the rut that it got stuck in. I’ll never forget that precious, little car. My aunt and I were discussing her first car which was probably the inspiration for my Miata. My aunt was the hip, glamorous career lady in my childhood who took my sister and I to our first concert and bought my sister and I our first private telephones for our bedrooms, among other special, fun treats. She drove a teeny Karmann Ghia convertible. My aunt would let my sister and I sit up in the back of it and do the “queen wave” to our imaginary crowds of adoring fans. The Karmann Ghia didn’t have a working heater, but the woolly blankets made for a cozy ride in that adorable car!

Your first adult car is just another rite of passage into the adult world. My husband is with my son right now. He is relegated to the “I’ve got your back” position, just to make sure that no one unsavory tries to take advantage of someone new to the car buying experience. He is trying to balance his take-charge, fatherly side with the wisdom to allow my son the independence to take the lead. There is such a mix of emotions when your children go through the gates of adulthood. There is nostalgia, excitement, pride, astonishment, a little bit of worry and a lot of hope. My biggest hope is that this car takes him safely and gently through this first leg of his adulthood journey. Just as I’m sure that he’ll never forget so many of the “firsts” in his adult life, I know that he’ll never forget this car. May it be a special one, because my son is so special to me.