Well, it’s taken a while but I’ve finally gotten around to getting the pictures off my phone, nuts almost wrote car… that’s a headache for you. Yesterday on the way home and after getting both cars here, I took a few pictures of each.
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| From Rosie & Noëlle |
An awfully long time ago, my grandmother dragged us across the Ford dealer and came home with a used 1993 Tempo GL, same light blue that she always got. Don’t know how long it took but it was dark by the time we left, felt like all day. I’m sure we walked the property at least twice!!!
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Maybe the Tempo isn’t an important model to many people but for me, it’s a slice of history. My memory of that car goes back as far as the guy at ford explaining how the radio worked during the test drive. It’s the same car that my grandmother put a curse on after the alzheimer’s took her off the road. Same car that took us all to disney world, and again left me with numb legs the first time we came to Newnan. It’s the car my brother learned to drive in the parking lot, by giving the seat belts a real run for their money. IIRC, it was a Sports Authority parking lot. Like wise, it’s the the first car I was in an accident with when ma was turning right at the intersection and someone ran a red light and creamed us on the way to pick up my brother from work. I can still remember countless times in that car. On the same coin, it is also the car that I learned to drive in. Yeah, a little HSC straight four engine with a three speed automatic, that can peel out like a flash yet still go smooth at a low crawl and rattle all the way.
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I learned how that car responds, what she is capable of, where the rattles come from, and how to manoeuvre it to her the edge of her envelope. To compensate for all the damage, I’ve even had to learn how to drive with minimal help beyond wheels. To starve off Murphy, I usually give myself margins measured in feet when driving but know that car enough to only need inches. What can I say, we’ve known each other a long time, even closer since I got to start driving. At some point, my mother had nick named the car “Rosie” after Katharine Hepburn’s role of “Rose Sayer” in the African Queen. It’s kind of stuck, and well, beats referring to it as “Car” :P. So, I refer to this car as Rosie whenever `the family ford` or her make/model isn’t the only appropriate form of address. Whenever I hear Somewhere With You on the radio, I’m gonna be thinking of Rosie.
My family never really took much care of that car, so it’s always been a mess, fluids almost never checked beyond anti-freeze (my mother is paranoid about that), oil changes more like 2 or 3 times in 17 years, tyres when they’re flat, etc. Most things taken into the car, have stayed there for /years/ and it’s been used like a trash can for as long as I can remember. I’ve never volunteered to clean out the car, because I know I’m the only asshole who would keep it clean. After taking pictures of the interior, I threw some of the trash out when I was unloading Rosie.
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