My Life In South Carolina

So, I had Thanksgiving lunch with some of my in-laws just like every year. It was the usual turkey, dressing, and conversation about who had spent the most money since last thanksgiving and why. Yes, its a regular brag-a-thon with that set of in-laws.

I’m expected to go through it twice a year, Thanksgiving and Christmas usually. This years topics were how much money one set spent remodeling, and the other set bragged about how they bought their two sons vehicles, and one of them isn’t old enough to drive, but he’s a good kid so they thought it was only fair. WTF?

Who in the hell buys a kid a new car who can’t drive it for two years? I don’t care if he’s a good kid or not. What if he goes and runs amuck? You know, like teenagers do sometimes.

This got me to thinking about my first car. It was a $500 1976 Chevy Nova with bald tires and a bald spare to match, but what really set it off was the dent in the rear quarter panel. I was glad to have it! Hell, when I got my license I’d drove a tractor if I’d had to, you know? I didn’t care I was mobile and it was a car. It only lasted about six months. I guess the old girl had seen her better days, one day it said to hell with it and just quit.

My second car was a1980 Volkswagon rabbit. (no dents and decent tires) It actually burnt up in the parking lot of my high school one morning just as I arrived. Seeing an opportunity, I used this incident to my advantage for missing school that day. My nerves were shot, I had a near death experience for Pete’s sake. I caught hell about that from my friends for months after. I’m not sure but It may have been the faulty radio installation I hurried through the weekend before, so I could have some tunes as quickly as possible. I never admitted that until now and will revert to my original story if my Dad reads this.

The last car purchased for me by my father was a baby blue 1980 Chevrolet Chevette and I was pimping! I bought a new Sparkomatic radio/cassette player and speakers. This time though I installed them in what we like to refer to as the “correct way.” I cranked the Ozzy and was mobile again. Now that I think about it, I don’t think anything could be more redneck than a teenager blasting Ozzy from a Chevette. I could be wrong though.

You see, I was humbled by my vehicles growing up, and I didn’t own my first “new” vehicle until 2003. I mean, I had cars in between the Chevette and my new truck. Just so you know, I didn’t drive the ‘80 Chevette until 2003, it wasn’t that good of a car.

I looking forward to the Christmas lunch this year, and what the blowhards will have to say. I guess I’ll find out then that the remodeling set bought a helicopter or a house midget.