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| My 1992 White Ford Explorer, Whitey Ford, was the most important man in my life for many years! |
In 1994, when I was
15 years old, my parents bought a car for me to drive. They bought me a three-year-old green Ford Explorer, Eddie Bauer edition, with a moon roof. Now, I
know it was a safe car, and that they got a really good deal buying it used,
but, if I had a child approaching driving age I think I might be more likely to
buy him or her, say, a 20 year old Dodge Neon, or a 1987 Fiat, or something
like that. I have no plausible explanation for why my parents got me such a
nice car, but I know I was the object of much car envy at school for quite
awhile. I loved my car and drove it enthusiastically for about a year and a
half, at which point I was involved in a really bad accident and my car was
totaled, and-thank God- it wasn't my fault!
You know how people
like to tell a girl who has just broken up with her boyfriend that there are
other fish in the sea and all that? Well, I wasn't feeling that way about cars
when my car got totaled! I was thinking that there was no way I would ever find
a car as wonderful as my green Ford Explorer—until, that is, Whitey Ford drove
into my life. He was sleek and white and shiny, and he really knew how to carry
those 1,800 pounds and make them look good!
There was insurance money from the totaled Explorer to cover the cost of the
car, and I ended up with a 1992 white Ford Explorer with black running boards.
As you have probably guessed by now, I named him Whitey Ford, and he was
fantastic! Whitey Ford saw me through many important years. He was there for lots
of important life moments, went on many trips with me, and, although I washed
and waxed him more regularly in the early stages of our relationship, he
continued to maintain a dignified luster well into his old age.
One of my earliest
memories of old Whitey is the night that a group of my friends and I went to
Lenox Park, an office park/greenspace near my house. We were out of high school
at that point, and we liked to go to Lenox Park at night during the summer to
hang out and do things that now you couldn't pay me to do, like playing hide
and seek in the bushes. Shockingly, we did not go to the park to drink, smoke,
or do anything else that was illicit for 18 year olds. While some of my friends
did do these things, I guess we just weren't outdoorsy people, as many of my
friends preferred to do their underage drinking while ensconced in brightly
lit, indoor settings.
On the particular
night in question, my friend, Mario, who often went around town with me in my
car, had a young lady friend visiting from California. It might even have been
the night of our senior prom- I really don't remember. I just remember that my
friends and I were at the park, and when we went to get out of the car, Mario
and his lady friend informed us that they did not wish to join the hide and
seek party. They probably used some flimsy excuse about allergies, or bug
bites, or something equally weak. The rest of us went off to have fun and, when
I returned to the car I noticed that the windows were all fogged up. Upon
opening the door, I found Mario and his lady friend both looking rather guilty.
I believe Mario's words to me were something like "Don't come knocking
when the Explorer's rocking," or something similar. He then said something
that I don't even think I would repeat to George Carlin, if he were still
alive, and I felt an overpowering urge to steam clean and sanitize my car
immediately. The worst part was knowing that Whitey Ford would have to live
with whatever had happened during my absence, and he'd have to deal with it
with no way to discuss his feelings. I have many other memories of my beloved
car, with that one being the most psychically disturbing.
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| A Cypress Hill song blew my speakers! |
I also recall
several instances in which some of my friends and I had freeze out/burn out
contests in the car. During the winter we would take off our coats and turn the
air conditioning up full blast, and see who was the first to get so cold that
he or she had to exit the car. In the summer we would turn the heat on high and
see who was the first to need to escape the inferno. More times than I care to
count I had the music on so loudly playing something like Cypress Hill's Insane in the Brain, that I eventually
blew all of the car's speakers. There were several times that my car drove us
to Lake Lanier, which is just north of Atlanta. There we did something that, if
I had kids and they did it I would murder them before they could die of the
recklessness of such an act. A couple of my male friends would stand up on the
back bumper of my car, holding on to the luggage rack, and I would drive us
down the winding roads around the lake at a speed that my mom would have
frowned upon.
My car, my Whitey
Ford, was my first love, outside of my family and pets. My relationship with
him was longer and more reliable than my relationships with any other men I've
ever known. He was, not only a great provider of safe and reliable
transportation, but also a witness to some important growing up years.
Unfortunately, in 2008, Whitey Ford succumbed to a dead transmission and, with
great heartache, he went to live in the old scrap heap in the sky, and a new
car came into my life. But that is a story for another time.
Ford Explorer image courtesy of http://www.autopten.com
Cypress Hill image courtesy of http://www.fanart.tv
Want to hear something spooky? I believe I once had a group dinner with the real Whitey Ford, on Long Island! As I remember he was a neighbor of one of my husband's boss's adult kids (if you can follow that) and they brought he and wife to some kind of company "do" held at their country club. I shal have to Google it all and see if--timewise and thru other details of Whitey's life and possible place names--this vague memory can be true.
ReplyDeleteI know he was a very famous baseball player of the era and the only other such names in my memory are Jackie Robinson of course, Ducky Wucky Medwick and PeeWee Reese. I'm sure they must have been Dodgers since that's the team I grew up on --my Mom was their ardent fan. As usual, I digress.
This is the said friend, "Mario" from High school mentioned in the article I probably should print this and reread it twice before making an official statement about the said, "Rocking of the vehicle." There are a few points that I wish to correct. Although I did have a visitor from California that Summer in your car, she and I did not do what you are claiming in the aforementioned vehicle. It was in fact our Senior Prom Night after dinning in The ATL's illustrious Chop's Lobster Bar in Buckehead. That my Prom Date after having order the Lobster priced at $23 a pound and a Porter House Steak feigned a "Headache" to keep from playing "Manhunt" a game that would go on for hours. In retrospect as a father of a ten year old daughter I would undo the events in your car. However, it was the best night of my young life. Furthermore, I'd appreciate an alter ego for such stories seeing that my nieces and nephews now have access to Facebook. When I first saw the article I thought you were making mention of the numerous times you picked me up when I was calling the Cross Keys Baseball games with all of my uncle's Stereo Equipment. Or that time we were in Five Points and the guys started walking up to your car with their hands in their pants at night. I was half asleep and you were beginning to roll down your window when I encouraged you to run the red light and drive off. And for the record I deny these statements and any other statements attesting to the similar as false without the burden of proof. Especially the underage drinking part. Teen Age Drinking is illegal and unethically unless you have a fake ID. Which none of us had, or needed for that matter seeing that they never carded us at one of the few Mexican Restaurant in Atlanta in the 90's.
ReplyDeleteI have noted your concerns, "Mario." From now on I will give you a different name, like "Cletus."
ReplyDelete