Blue Cars and Red Cars- A First Car Story

I started my first job with one goal in mind. Save enough money to buy a car when I turned sixteen. I was twelve at the time. I worked at a campground/marina on a large lake in North Carolina. I cleaned bathhouses, drove the garbage truck, mowed grass and slung weeds. For three summers, I spent all day Saturday and Sunday manning the gas dock. I started out at $1.85/hour and worked my way up to $2.85/hour. Several weeks before my sixteenth birthday I started shopping for a car. It was 1981 and I had saved $2,250. I would check out the classifieds every Sunday to find a cool car that I could buy with my savings. Every car that I liked was a little out of my price range. At the rate I made per hour, it would take months to have enough money to get the car I wanted.

 I watched as my friends showed up at school in Barracudas, Mustangs, Camaros, and Trans Ams.  Their parents were footing the bill. My Dad had promised that if I saved enough to buy a car, he would cover the insurance.  Just as I was losing hope, I found a car that was close to my price point. It was a “68 Mustang. Custom painted a deep red with lots of clear coats to make it look even redder. It had glass pack mufflers that made a beautiful rumbling sound as it idled. The price tag was $2500.  I talked to my parents. Dad arranged for my mother to pick up the car and bring it home so he and I could test it out and have his mechanic check it out.  I was excited! Mom reported that as she drove it to our house someone had challenged her to a drag race!

I fell in love with that car. Dad’s mechanic did not. He rattled off a whole bunch of work it would need and I’m sure that sealed Dad’s opinion. The seller was firm in his price of $2500. I asked my father to loan me $250 so that I could buy the ’68 “sure to be classic” car.  Dad asked, “Why would you pay all that money for an old car that needs a ton of work?” He pointed out that our neighbors had a nice car that was only three years old and they were selling it for $2,250. I could buy it and not have to borrow any money. Besides, it was newer and would not need all that work. So, I bought the neighbor’s car. If you know anything about cars, you will know what happened next when I tell you that my very first car that I spent my entire life savings on was an Audi Fox.

On my sixteenth birthday, I passed the driving test. License in hand, I drove my new European car to the rural high school I attended. My friends thought it was the funniest car they had ever seen. “What is that?” they chuckled. And, “Oooooh…it says BLUE FOX on it!” Ugh. We had not had the mechanic check it out because it was newer and we trusted the neighbors. When it started misfiring, I took it to the shop. The mechanic came up with a full-page list of work the Audi needed. Number one on the list was a broken strut. I did not know what a strut was, but apparently, this car was equipped with very expensive, but fragile McPherson struts. I don’t remember all the details, but the estimate was close to $1,000.  I think Dad coughed up money for the repair bill out of a guilty conscience.

I hung on to the Fox through high school. I found that if I shifted quickly into second gear I could make the tires bark. That had my friends rolling. My friends also loved to see me pull up to the Handy-Pantry to buy a quart of oil every other day. When I would unscrew the oil cap, a billow of smoke would rise out like I had rubbed a genie lamp. No wishes granted. But it did give my friends a new line, “Hey Scott, that is really cool. The Fox has an overhead cam smoker!” More rolling and knee slapping. I endured it though, and they didn’t complain when I drove places so they could drink as much as they wanted.

I took the Blue Fox with me to college high up in the Blue Ridge Mountains. It got me and a couple of buddies that had previously laughed at my car up and down those mountains many weekends. The electric cooling fan quit working, so we would watch the engine temperature gauge climb as we made our way up steep grades and then watch it fall with relief as we coasted down the other side of the hills. One of the high beams shot way off to the right side of the road and often helped us spot deer along the roads as we made our way between home and dormitory life.

The following year I moved back home and attended the local University. The Fox threw a rod and that was all she wrote. My Dad sold me his old diesel pick-up truck for a bargain. Thus, began my lifelong pursuit of the perfect car. I think I have been trying to make up for losing out on that deep red Mustang my whole life.  However, I always end up putting practicality over what I really want. So, this week, some 36 years later, I bought a deep red convertible!  It’s not a Mustang, but it looks sporty. But I kept it practical. It has a backseat. Underneath the sporty exterior is a Toyota Camry. Dad has a Camry. 

The car is cool, yet practical. Just like me and my dad.