2 out of 8 ain't bad

i had to call dan yesterday to report that "i've done something bad." it wasn't that bad, but it was just another in a series of bad things that happen when i get behind the wheel. i am that guy who will volunteer to put the first dent in the new car. it is the curse, and every time i think i've broken it, it rears its ugly head.


1. my mom's 1996, at the time brand-new, honda civic. i was being a little 16-year-old hot shot and came around a corner a bit too fast when someone blinded me with their brights. since i was a new driver, i overcorrected, hit some gravel, and careened into the ditch where the car hit some grass, followed by a huge rock, and then gently rolled over on its top. this was my first and only legitimate crash. i drive very carefully now, but the curse has mutated and remains. *kill 1*


2. after the civic debacle, i was given a 1985 ford F-350. if you aren't familiar, this is a huge beast. the biggest truck ford makes for the average joe. the old ford was painted black with accents of primer and rust. it was a tank. i never ever ran into anything seriously (except for going forward into a fence instead of reverse and "brushing" someone's car in the high school parking lot), so i count this as one of my two "not damaged" rides.


3. the blue toyota. now here is where it gets technical. first, i personally never damaged Chewy, the extra winterfresh gum colored '95 toyota that i drove senior year. sure, some lady pulled up right behind me and i backed into her, damaging her car, but not doing any damage to my bumper. also, i allowed my then friend, now sister-in-law to drive one evening and she rammed it into the side of my friend ryan's little POS honda and royally screwed both cars up. thank god for brush guards. so, i put this in the *kill 2* column simply because there was damage and my decisions led to it.


4. the '91 mercury tracer. wow. this car and i spent six years together. we drove around eugene in the rain, over snowy mountain passes for holidays, to L.A. for spring break, to Florida from Oregon, to Oregon from Florida via Montana and Minnesota, all around Idaho, and Dan drove her all the way to San Antonio before we passed her to our friend Ox. with six years of driving, i took very good care of this little go-getter. i only ran one yellow light and some hotshot 18-year-old in his Dad's fully restored '64 camaro gunned it through the yellow, too, whilst turning, and tagged my rear driver's side door. now, it's just me, but i can run yellow lights in mercury tracers because if they hit things, i'm only out a few hundred bucks. but if i'm driving my dad's sweet '64 camaro (which after this blog i will probably never do, even if he had one), i am going to be pretty cautious. anyway, the police decided he was at fault and i got a $1200 check. ha ha, d-bag. i did accidentally scrape the headlight against some guy's totally dangerous sticking-out metal pole on his camper, but it was just a headlight and it wasn't my fault. and someone backed into us in the albertson's parking lot and left a note. i wasn't even in the car, so that wasn't my fault either. we got another $1200 check for that one. officially totalled, but still ran great. i give myself *kill 3* on the tracer because i know better than to run lights.


5. dan's jeep wrangler. now, like my dad's imaginary classic camaro, i know better than to be an absentminded retard whilst driving dan's jeep. i drove it every other day for a year when we were in idaho so he could take the tracer down to base to save on gas money. the only incident that ever happened was that someone broke in, stole his CDs and our garage door opener. i changed the garage code that night and kept the jeep locked up tight after that. but not a scratch thank-you-very-much.


6. holly's hot rod red ford F-250. after spending 18 months driving the jeep and having nowhere to put the dog, the tent, the cooler, and our food and clothes, we added a beautiful 1999 ford F-250 to the family. it was so pretty with chrome accents and mint condition interior. i got to drive it because dan wanted me out of the jeep and the tracer was still driving to mountain home three times a week. i was soooo careful, especially pulling in and out of parking spaces and ensuring that i had enough room for stoppage. after about two months, the curse rears its ugly head. backing out of the garage one morning, i must have not been aligned from the night before and screeeeeech, i crumple the left driver's side front tire fender arch (luckily there was this nice piece of chrome arch covering the actual red paint. it only cost me $30 to have it replaced and back to good before i even told dan about it.) "honey, i ran the truck into the garage, but it's fixed already! haha! see, i am safe. don't take it away from me!" *kill 4*


7. currently we have a 1996 red Rover saloon (sedan). it is exactly like a honda accord of the same year, but called a Rover here for some reason. it's sort of our junker, but that doesn't mean i'm not careful. i just have this problem with parking it in our tiny space. i've bumped the trash cans, scraped the front along a brick wall, tagged the garage door, and sort of brushed up against some lady's car at the salon once. just once. no real harm done. the best, though, was when my parents were visiting and we were on a one-lane road and a huge semi came upon us. i thought i would just reverse and swing into the driveway i'd just passed. scrreeeeeeech, as i turned the wheel right and punched it in reverse, i didn't take into account the pretty little stump-lined flower bed that some guy had built in his yard across the street. i ripped one of the stumps out and sort of dislodged the Rover's bumper. oops. dad said that the garden display looked better with that little splash of red paint. *kill 5*


8. my little min-min. the mini has enough problems without me running it into things. it is old. it is british engineered. it is rickety and shaky and the advice my mechanic gives when something goes haywire is "well, jiggle the wires, and see if that helps." hm. already we've had a clogged fuel filter, a broken heater, a squealy fan belt, a messed up immobilizer, and a dead battery. but those are all general repairs on any aging ride. i just had to add to the record by not paying attention while backing out of my teeeny garage yesterday and ripping the front bumper halfway off. holy CRAP i was so angry. i am SO FREAKING CAREFUL with my little mini. and the sound of twisting metal was like a reminder that i am an idiot that can't be trusted with nice things. a replay of all the fender-benders of old went rushing through my brain. DAMN IT! I SUCK! ARGH! *kill 6*


to conclude, i have to have some pride in my safe driving record since 1996. although my father has joked that we have a revolving account at the body shop due to mine and my brother's handy driving skillz, in my case, it is just stupid body damage. stupid garage damage. i drive nice and slow, i am defensive, i keep a nice distance. But when i get below the 5mph mark it it like all objects are magnetized to my ride. i blame it on my legitimate lack of depth perception, but it is probably just me not paying attention. hopefully Iain will be able to rustle me up another mini bumper soon!