Our Lady of Perpetual Hell

‘Til two weeks ago, the only cars I’d ever owned were bought used…

1. A ‘72 Toyota Corolla–a truly yecchy mustard yellow colour–that I called my Flintstonemobile because by the time I finished with it, the floorboards on the driver’s side had big enough holes in ‘em that I could picture myself sticking my feet through and braking that way–like Fred did. It was handed down to me by my parents when I was in Grade 13. I slid on some ice one winter while driving through Canatara Park and hit a telephone pole–leaving the front left bumper of the car with a permanent snarl. (Seemed too appropriate to bother fixing it.)

2. A ‘92 Honda Accord–mint green colour, which did well to hide the dust so prevalent in the high desert of the Salt Lake Valley–bought in 2001 after 8 suicidally long months of relying on spotty public transit (which, at that pre-Olympics time didn’t even run on Sundays). It died on me about two weeks before I left Utah–some problem with the ignition system that had it stalling at intersections and momentarily dropping from 3000 RPMs down to next-thing-to-zero RPMs and then back up again while I was cruising at 75 mph on the I-15. Scream- and invective-inducing behaviour, to be sure.

I started looking for a new car last September, when the Honda dealer in Salt Lake told me that the Accord needed a bunch of repairs that just seemed like too much to spend on a car of that vintage (and no, as a matter of fact, none of those recommended fixes had anything to do with the ignition problem that ended up crippling it). I got some of it done so that I could keep using it to shop for a new one, but then never did make a decision on a car in the fall and then there was the distraction of Christmas and, oy vey, it just kept getting pushed back further and further on my plate. I’ve already mentioned a little problem I have with prioritizing (which is mebbe just a nicer word for “procrastination”, *ahem*) in my private–not work!–life, and since the car was still working, well, I just kept using it. ‘Til two weeks before I was scheduled to be haulin’ ass outta Utah, that is.

Once back here, as you know, I used my parents’ cars until it became clear that I really was cramping their style. So it was back to the car lots… but at least this time I had a very good idea of what I was looking for, having narrowed my search pretty well in the fall. I knew for sure that I wanted something a little sexier sportier than a staid ol’ Corolla or Accord. I wanted something fun to drive.

Something, say, like this…

My 2006 Hyundai Tiburon SE 5-speed.

It’s a blast to drive–it handles tight, the shift is short and fast, and the interior is leather. Black leather.

I find myself going to the back door at home or to a window at work and blowing kisses out at it. But just look at it. Can you blame me?