Ye Olde Beater

Frigging old car is going to hell.  It’s a 1989 Ford Crown Victoria with a 302.  I bought it a year and a half ago from a fellow who no longer needed it – he was going in the slammer for at least two years, thanks to a whole slug of DUI tickets he earned in a little over two years.  The judge finally had it with him and away he goes.  At nine o`clock he listed it on Craig’s list and by ten I bought it.  For $500.

I know, I know.  $500 for a beater is a bit much.  But everything sort of worked.  The major deficiencies were the back windows (they don’t go up or down), the A/C was shot and the body had four major dents.  But now the taillights are out, as are the instrument lights, and the wipers have become a sometime thing.  The saving graces are an engine and tranny are still solid.

So why does a guy my age drive around in a piece of crap like that anyway?  I’ll tell you why: Because a 1989 Ford is all I can afford.  If you valued readers would only go to Amazon’s Kindle library and buy Trucker, I could upgrade to the cherry 1973 Chrysler that’s for sale down the street.  Oh, what a dream it is: Shit-brindle in color, it has four doors, a 400 CID engine with a 2-barrel carb, A/C, power this-and-that, AM/FM and a 6-way seat up front.  And no dents.  It even has all its hub caps.

But I must continue driving the Ford, probably until Hell freezes over.  But I’ve driven old beaters before.  Probably the worst was a 1979 Dodge wagon.  I drove the living shit out of it.  That old pile took me to the Bay Area eight times before it was through.  The last time, it couldn’t make it up Siskiyou pass without being held in second gear.  No one could say I didn’t get my money’s worth out of it.

Well, time for my evening walk.


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