MY FIRST CAR

MY FIRST CAR



When we lived in Denver several years ago (a whole lot of years ago, I guess) I had Grandpa’s old green Plymouth Fury with the big fins for my personal use. That car had been many places and did even make the trip from Minnesota, tho it was not in the best of shape .

One day I was going to play golf over on Federal Blvd way and as I went down 104th to the six lane corner, I put on the brakes for the stop light and it decided it wanted to go right on through. I escaped unscathed only because the blue language yelled at me by the entire cross traffic covered me with a fog so that miraculously I was not hit. If you believe that, well, I have a piece of land down in……. No, I don’t know how I escaped being hit. All I know was that I was mad and I made a U turn and drove back to 104th.

Those of you who know Denver know that l04th is car sales alley and so I drove into the first one I came to which happened to be a VW garage. I was met by John who was fascinated by my red striped top. No mastectomies yet! I saw this pale yellow vokes bug which I loved immediately and began to haggle for price and allowance for my great big Plymouth. I got the allowance I wanted and I wrote a check for the rest and drove my first car home that I had bought on my own... Sure, I had been consulted about the previous cars, but this one only I made the decision, signed, sealed and delivered.



My eldest 16 year old son would take the car up in the mountains and he and his friends would ride on Jeep trails with it as far as they could. When they came to a place where there could go no further, they simply lifted the car and turned her around.

Everyone in the family seemed to love Griselda and my husband, tho he complained when he had to fit his 6 foot 2 inches frame into it, went along with it too. When we moved to Michigan, the car came along. Actually, my daughter used it often when she attended Michigan State. They had a lot of fun with that car. One day when she came out of class a gang of guys had lifted the car up umpteen steps and there it sat in front of the doors in all its glory looking down on everybody.

I loved my little yellow VW but one day Bill started sounding the ominous note that the ball joints were going and therefore it was no longer safe to drive. Knowing nothing about that sort of thing, I agreed and Bill turned her in for a Nova. I later found out that VWs do not have ball joints. Men—got balls, but such liars!!!!

My first car was fun. I shall never forget it.