Quote:
Originally posted by TheLegacy
I've always been fortunately in the purchases of cars - from my first 69 tempest to a 73 monte carlo right now to my mustang GT the cars have stood by me and helped me survive in times when I really needed them.
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Hello, my Robert!
I remembered something that my much lamented Ford Galaxy taught me: that I am the human and it is something I *own* and I shouldn't be afraid of it. During a moment of utter frustration, when I had my head under the hood attempting to follow instructions given to me by a friend on how to adjust a carburator, I lost my temper and hit the thing with a wrench. Well, as it turns out, I had something called a "float" stuck, and the solid whack jarred it loose. I was flushed with power at that moment and realized it's just a tool. A piece of equipment. It has no magical properties with which I - as a female - am incapable of grasping. It may have been a piece of shit automobile-wise, but it did teach me a valuable lesson, and thus was not a total loss.
I learned to change, and even rotate, my own tires; check all the multitudinous fluids that require checking; and even in moments of great bravery, I've given people jumps. (Electricity frightens me, ever since I stuck the bobby pin in the outlet as a very small child.)
My husband has always been very good about teaching me to do things, and has taken advantage of the fact that my smaller hands can slide into places his won't fit.
I adore old cars. One of my fantasies is that my husband and I can someday buy an old clunker and cherry it out together. We live in a town that seems to have more than its share of old cars and old car clubs. On bright, sunny Saturdays, the streets are full of them.
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