My favourite car...

This is my dream car. I know this because I drove behind one for at least half an hour yesterday and I was still filled with that longing tinged with sadness that you feel when you fall head over heels in love with the most popular guy in school and you know it's an entirely hopeless case...
Have you ever seen something so beautiful? It has such a retro nostalgic look to it, and you know if you had one, you could go places... up north into Africa...up steep and rocky inclines,if you so wish, even if the very thought of doing that right now,produces something akin to terror.Even if the gearstick requires you to grunt with the effort of changing gears and even if there is very little luggage space. You would have to learn to travel light. Oh but you would if you owned such a beautiful car,you would.




My first car, was a white Ford Escort, like the one above. It's roof had a black vinyl cover. I got her from an old gentleman who had loved her up for many years. She was almost as good as new. He had named her Brenda, so she stayed Brenda. He had religiously polished her every Saturday, kept her in a garage, protected her from the elements and only taken her for short trips to the shop and back.

I knew that deep down she had harbored the itch to travel all those years  and was done with the cosseted life she led. So I dutifully took her on as many road trips as I could afford and in gratitude, she just kept on going and gave very little trouble in the way of  breakdowns.

We had a clean bill of health when it came to accidents. There might have been a little bumper kissing when I threw her into reverse once or twice,but  it never involved another car,I swear. There is one significant blot on  our record, but it's also our biggest claim to fame and I am yet to find someone else who can brag of the same  small driving indiscretion...

It involved someone that  looked like this...


Brenda and I went over it several times,but we could never really decide which one of us was really at fault...
Let me explain..
I was teaching at my first teaching post,and was a little late leaving home. I knew I needed to be quick,there was no time to delay. I might have been dreaming a little, I don't know, but I forgot that when a traffic officer had his back to you it meant you had to stop.

I surveyed the scene,carefully and determined it was safe to proceed, so behind his back, whilst he was distracted by other cars, I made my bid for the highway on ramp. He might have had eyes at the back of his head,I don't know, but his traffic officer senses were tingling and he sensed my intentions so.... in a bid to stop my teeny weeny infraction of the law, he boldly leaped in my path, hands in the " stop dammit"position.

I tried, but I'll admit to being a little flustered and I might have stepped on the gas instead of finding the brakes. The net result was , the nice traffic officer was sprawled on the bonnet of Brenda. It was quite a predicament for Brenda and I to be in,something akin to being caught with your traffic ordinance pants down, and to make matters worse, I was suddenly overcome with giggles. ( I always giggle when I am nervous)

Luckily for me, the traffic had not slowed and his sojourn on my bonnet, had begun to cause some traffic snarl  ups. With nothing more than a very dirty look, he left Brenda and I to sort out some more pressing matters. I was in shock. No ticket? No jail sentence? I gratefully maneuvered my way off  to school - a little shook up but grateful he didn't even appear to have a limp

I thought I had gotten away with the worst kind of traffic infraction like the great train robbers, but one day, about a week later, I was coming down the hill when I saw the same traffic officer on point duty...
Determined never to repeat the mistake again, I dutifully and obediently stopped well before the line. I was the first car in the line. ( Darnit all) .

Mid arm waving, he suddenly recognised me. He had had a close look at me  after all and I am sure I was indelibly etched in his memory. I felt a nervous giggle begin to rise up in my throat. Not now darn it all...
He motioned to me with his index finger, the unmistakable "come here" his finger beckoning me closer. Who me? Yes you.... His finger still beckoning he made me drive right up to his feet. ( Brave lad) The other drivers I assume were rather puzzled.

I stood at his feet while he moved other lanes of traffic with great skill and precision. Then when it was my turn to go....he banged hard on the bonnet, gave me a stern look and said, "Now you can go..."
There must be only a handful of drivers out there,who can boast of having knocked over a traffic officer and lived to tell the tale.......

After all those experiences and shared memories,one learns to love ones vehicle as they become so tied up in one's life memories.Gorgeous drop dead retro Defenders aside, my vote for favourite car, must go to Brenda, after all we were the "Bonnie and Clyde"of the open road!