Old Bangers - and the used car trade.

The events of the day have prompted memories. Memories of cars, many cars which over the years have found me in interesting situations.

I have been meaning to write some of them for some time now, and this seems as good a time as any.

 My daughter and her boyfriend recently acquired a car. My first question, a typical woman, was "What colour is it?" What I really should have done was remind them to check the oil and water before setting out. So I am here waiting for them to arrive, and receive a call. "There is smoke coming out of the engine." Uh-oh. "Welcome to the world of cars."
says I, cool as a cucumber. I have been in that situation so many times I have lost count.
So while I am waiting to hear some news, I am going to recount some 'terrible tales' of days gone by.

My daughter's sixth birthday.

The little red mini was given to us by my sister-in-law, following the demise of the previous car, a Renault which was so rusty I hand-painted the entire body with a russet-coloured rust paint. I think it was the only car of that colour on the entire Island. After the Renault, we acquired two Deux-Cheveux, Citron Dian, which served as good run arounds. One of them, the yellow one, had a unique feature. The doors came off every time you opened them. We used to drive my daughter to school sometimes. The children would gather round fascinated and dubbed it The Clown's Car.
Generally she preferred to walk to school. But she has grown up with her sense of humor still intact, thankfully

So anyway, we set off back from The Fun Factory, which was where the party was happening. It had replaced a venue called the Top Hat, which back in the day, had hosted a Strangler's gig supported by U2, but that is another story. The warehouse was now the giant slides and coloured ball pits, adventure for all the family. In tow we had a little boy who said to my daughter: "My Daddy's car is much cooler than this one." My daughter instantly came to the Mini's defense pointing out how unique it was and so on, when almost immediately after this conversation took place, smoke started pouring from the engine. The look on the little boy's face was which could only be described as, smug.
My heart bled for Bex while I got out and called for back up to come and fetch the kids.

I had parked the same Mini in a railway station car park another time, when a van backed into the front bumper, literally crumpling it. The drivers pointed to the "Park at your own risk." sign so I couldn't claim insurance from them. I drove the crumpled Mini back to the small town (the kind of town where everybody knows your name), and lo and behold while standing at a traffic light which had only literally just turned green, a car comes from behind and bashes the back bumper. The Mini now looked like a crumple sandwich. As I went to park on Main Street to buy some groceries, a couple of the old guys started laughing and one of them said: "We call you Mrs Bean."
Well, thanks very much.

Every time one of my cars ended its days, for one reason or another, a 'kind' friend would offer me another old car that was doing nothing much, and probably for a good reason.
My landlord's son, a mechanic, gave me an old Cortina. It was red.
I was driving with the children one day on a very busy road, when the accelerator cable snapped.
The engine crescendoed into a roar, and I thought it was about to explode. I pulled into the curb and I told the children to get out quick. We all jumped out and hid behind a bush waiting for the explosion. Nothing happened except the engine died a mournful passing. The next day a friend told me she had passed us on the road. Well, nothing like stopping to see if we needed any help.

Then there was the time one of the cars ran out of petrol outside the Cullinmore Hotel. I knew the owner who invited me to leave the children with the kitchen staff, while I went off on the back of a stranger's motorbike to the nearest garage. I burnt my ankle quite badly on the bike's smoking hot exhaust while getting on. It took weeks to heal. I was a little anxious about leaving the children with strange chefs, but as it turned out they were having a feast of chocolate ice cream and jelly.

Another time we had been invited to go water-skiing. This caused great excitement and a friend of my daughter's was along for the ride. All packed up and ready to go, life-jackets and wet-suits, flippers and water-wings, a picnic, the works, and you'v guessed it, right on cue the car decides not to play the game. Much disappointment all round. We never did get to go water-skiing, but it was nice to imagine that we were going, for a while, I guess.

I was once given a car, to discover afterwards that the only problem with it that it needed a new lock for the driver's door. the only way of getting one was ordering it from France at a phenomenal cost that was more than the car was worth, and more than I could afford. So another one bit the dust.