Townsman, 1991-04, Page 40Seeing red!
BY KEITH ROULSTON
1 drove down to the city one bright
spring day recently and it seemed like
the roads had blossomed with bright-
ly -coloured Tittle sports cars that
somehow never seem to be around in
winter...or at least you never notice
them.
I don't mcan those big North Amer-
ican machines that are just a huge
motor on a set of wheels, designed to
wear out a set of tires on a Friday
night for some young stud with more
cents than sense. What I'm thinking
about at those little cars that put a prc-
mium more on maneuverability than
horsepower...the kind that somehow
looks just right if it's bright red.
Which guarantees I'II never have
one of those little jobs. It's not just
that I'm getting too old for that fool-
ishness, that getting out of those buck-
et seats is too hard on the ageing
body; it's a matter of preservation. I've
vowed never to own a red car again.
I haven't had good luck with red
cars. Take my first new car for
instance. Everybody has horror stories
to tell about the things that happen to
their first brand new car but I figure
not many can match mine. My little
red car was hardly sporty, just onc of
those boxy little cars the Japanese first
exported to Canada. Its most attractive
feature was the price: $1800 (tells you
something about my age doesn't it?).
Still 1 was pretty proud of it. I
drove it homc from the city to visit
my parents onc weekend just after I
bought it. We parked it out front of
the house and I was showing it off to
my father when a neighbour drove by.
Japanese cars were an oddity then so
he stopped to take a look. We had the
hood up and he went to put it down,
not realizing it wasn't counterweight-
ed like a big North American car but
was held up with a prop. He put a nice
crease in the hood where the prop
was.
40 TOWNSMAN/APRIL-MAY 1991
I was sick that the perfection of my
new car was wrecked and worried
about getting it fixed but I needn't
have worried. A few days later I was
driving along Lakeshore Blvd. in the
rain, following a car that was follow-
ing a street -car. The car pulled out to
pass the street -car so I prepared to fol-
low by checking over my shoulder to
see if anyone was coming. When I
turned back, I saw in horror that the
strect-car had signalled it was stop-
ping and the driver in front had
jammed on his brakes. On the wet
strcct-car tracks my brakes wouldn't
hold and I cased into his rear bumper.
Oh well, it had to go to the body shop
anyway.
We'd had a freak snowstorm by the
timc the car was repaired again and it
was time to take it in for its first
chcck-up. In the garage, whcn the
snow melted off, the mechanics found
the roof dented in most likely by some
kids using it as a landing pad from the
roof of a building they played on ncar
where I parked the car. I had only
1000 kin on the vehicle -then but I
should have traded it on the spot.
Things only got worse.
We moved back to civilization in
western Ontario. One day my car was
parked in the lot of my office building
and some pubic utilities workmen
were working nearby, putting in a
new hydro pole. Later in the day I
came out to find another dent on the
top of the vehicle. No one admitted,
of course, that the pole might have
gotten out of control as they swung it
around.
Even at home the vehicle wasn't
safe. We lived in a duplex with a
neighbour with a big dog and a bigger
temper. He got mad at the dog one
day and pitched a brick at it. Unfortu-
nately he wasn't a very good pitcher:
he missed the dog and smashed in the
side of my car,
On and on and on it went until it
finally came time to trade in the vehi-
cle. We got a nice, anonymous bluo
car and had four years of relative
peace. When we needed a new car,
however, we were unlucky enough to
stop at a dealer who had a bright red
car on special. Silly man, I bought it.
Six months later my wife was hit and
the car demolished. We went back to
a safe grey car, then an equally invisi-
ble beige van.
But two years ago we decided we
needed a second car because our
daughter was going to be taking a co-
op program at her high school and
needed a car every other day to get to
work. We went to the local car dealer
and there on the lot was a nice sporty
number. My wife warned me about
buying a red car but I confidently
pointed out if was maroon, at least in
that light. Others over the coming
days called it red but I paid them no
attention.
I wasn't all wrong. No hydro polls
have fallen on it. Nobody has hit it
with a brick. But two weeks after we
bought it the muffler fell off. Since I'd
specifically asked the dealer for some-
thing reliable because my daughter
was going to be driving it and since it
had been safety -checked two weeks
before, I wondered how such a thing
could happen. It was only the begin-
ning. The next six months saw every
part I had ever heard of replaced on
that car at a cost of about $1500.
Both our daughters who drive went
off to other parts of the province to
work last summer so the car sat there
and didn't cost me much. But last fall
the bearings in no less than both front
wheels went. While the wheels were
off the mechanics warned me it was
only a matter of time before a brake
job was needed. Time ran out the
other day so I took the car in today to
get new bakes installed. When I went
to pick up the car the mechanic told
me that some other part I didn't know
existed was broken. The part alone
would cost $125 he said.
I'm now ready to admit the car is
red...in any light. I've learned my les-
son. The next car will be black!