Cars are funny things. If you’re anything like me, you don’t get super-attached to your vehicle, but nevertheless, it plays a big role in your life. If your car is having a bad day, well, so are you. If your car is rocking, well, you’re probably having a pretty good time. In typing that last sentence, I meant it completely different than it came out, but that works too, I guess!
My first car was a 1983 Volkswagon Jetta. I liked it, it was alright. She was a pumpkin color and rattled a lot and didn’t last long enough to receive a name. I was in a hurry to move onto a vehicle that I’d like much better.
The Little Bugga That Could was fantastic. She was a 1973 Volkswagon SuperBeetle and we had some gooooood times together. She was a bit weak and hills were a bit of a workout for the old girl, but we chugga-chugged on through until rust damage and an unfortunately accident caused her untimely death.
Ol’ Smokey came next. This Mazda RX-7 from the 80’s was a lot of fun to ride in, but the guy who sold it to me wasn’t kidding when he told my dad and I that there were engine problems. I couldn’t drive more than a few miles without smoke starting to pour from underneath the hood.
My Pontiac Grand Am was probably one of my nicer vehicles actually, but I was young then and I hated that it wasn’t a “cool” car. I called her the Pontica Grand Ma.
My last car, the Focus, never had a name because I had no real attachment to it, but my current car – I loooove my current car. I’ve returned to my love of Volkswagon and have driven my pretty little Golf since July. It dawned on me the other day that my car has no name and this is just wrong.
Problem is? I can’t come up with anything good. So here. Help a sister out. Name my car, please? She’s a midnight blue VW Golf and she’s fun and she’s fast. Whatcha got for me?