All my life, my family has driven Hondas. The first car I remember was a silver Honda civic hatchback. It must have been about an '81. The Summer before I went into grade 7, we got a new dark blue civic, this one an '89. It was a really nice car. I remember how well you could see your surroundings through the windows. My cousin Matthew, probably 8 or 9 commented, "You can see the ground!" (His parents drove what can only be described as a blue star destroyer with wheels.). The new civic also had a much smoother ride, but really I'm not sure if the old civic even had shocks.
Two years later, we got a '91 Accord. That was luxury, a way smoother ride and power windows! By this time however, I was about 15, and I really had set my sights on the civic. I had realized that it would be the car that I would be driving, and drive it I did.
School mornings, I got to drive it as part of my carpool every 3 weeks for a week at a time to seminary, and then to school. I had the car all day, because by the time I could get home, I would have missed the bus. Unfortunately, the seminary year began about 2 weeks after school had started and ended 2 weeks before school ended.
Luckily for me, in my 12th grade year, I had two afternoon spares in my last semester. This, the death of my carpool, and the lack of construction work during the winter months, all added up to me driving the car to school every day. Throw in practices, and I had the car more than my Dad. It was a pretty sweet deal.
There was one sad event in my illustrious high school driving days. That was the time I go rearended by someone who can best be described as a Jackass. Cellphones were relatively new in those days, and I'm pretty sure that the guy had been distracted placing a call. My poor car was out for the count. We had a stupid green Buick rental car that you had to be 25 to drive. Didn't they know it was my car that got smashed? Why couldn't I drive the rental. To this day I hold a grudge against the Budget Rent-A-Car beside the Medicine Hat Airport.
Anyway, time passed, I made-out with Tracie in it a bunch of times. That was sure fun. Funny thing, I don't regret it at all, I guess it turns out that a lot of adults I have met are liars. Speaking of making-out, one time we were sitting in the car chatting, and I told Tracie that I didn't think that we should hang out alone in the car, so that we could avoid getting into trouble. I was actually quite serious at the time, but later, Tracie told me that it just made me that much more attractive to her. So... If you ever need a line, go ahead and use it.
When I finally got back from Argentina, the civic was given to me as a gift. It sat unused for 8 months, while I used my Grandma's Chevy Cavilier, a car with a lot more power, but also a lot worse milage. By this time, I had to share the car a lot more with my brother. Sharing a car with him was pretty annoying. I was working full time, and I would put gas in it quite often. Jeff however is quite cheap and *never* filled it. This was quite a sore spot for me.
After 8 months of being home, I got married, and finally had to get insurance and a licence plate for my civic. The car has really been great to us, but it is now on it's last legs. It has given 250,000kms and I've had it for almost 12 years myself. While I am sad to see it become the spare car, it has definitely done it's duty to God and the Queen.
Now comes the Corolla, soon to be known by two names, "The Coca-Corolla". Come to think of it, the first name is so good, I'm not even going to bother telling you my other name choices.
This post is getting pretty long so I'll write about the salesmen tomorrow.
-Gary, proud owner of the Coca-Corolla,
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