Your first

We all remember our first. There’s something mind-altering about it all. From how it felt to how old you were; where you were; what you were wearing; what the weather was like; every detail matters and every detail is etched in your brain forever – just like it is in mine. And if you don’t remember every detail than I have to ask: What’s wrong with you?

Your first car was your ticket to freedom; your invitation to the open road. The world was your oyster and you could go anywhere you wanted at any time with anyone you wanted (as long as you had the gas money). Often, your first car was a hand-me-down from your ever-loving parents (like mine was), and probably not your first choice of wheels, but they were wheels nonetheless.

The first car has always been, and probably always will be, synonymous with popularity, confidence and status. Remember when you were the only one in your high school graduating class with a car? (I don’t because I didn’t jump on the first-car bandwagon till my second year of Uni – yes, you can say loser). A car meant you were somebody, even if you weren’t. And no matter what that car was it coupled you with a persona thanks to the wheels. Think Kelso in That ’70s Show when he got his shaggin’ wagon. From an early ’90s hatch to your mom’s old people carrier minivan, you ride speaks volumes about you, even if you don’t want it to.

And this is why the first car is so important. Forget that it’s your first step toward freedom and personal development in the world (that’s secondary), your first car starts to mold your vehicular likes and dislikes. We tend to “settle” for the first car, and in that settling we learn the dos and don’ts of our car; just like our first partners – we learn what works and what doesn’t.

So, how did my vehicular taste mold? My very first car was a 2001 Nissan Sentra GXE. It was beige, all beige (inside and out). It was my parent’s car and they passed it on to me to teach me the responsibilities of monthly payments and gas. My Sentramobile saw me through University and into my first few months of office work, until I was financially stable enough to afford the car I really wanted. And while I really didn’t love the Sentra (I’m not going to lie here) it definitely taught me what I did want in a car.

My beige, boring automatic Sentramobile turned into a steel gray metallic, manual Subaru Impreza eventually, and while the Subie was my first “real” car (purchased by me and sold by me a year later) the Sentra holds a very special place in my heart and my memory – and yet when I went to find pictures of it and me in it, I strangely have none. Perhaps that first car always holds a certain amount of embarrassment over its driver as well ..

From that first awkward jaunt down the highway to the last time I parked it in the driveway to all the dead batteries, rattle-y heat shield, punctured exhaust, Care Bear dangler on the mirror (I was in Uni, please remember), the Sentra will always be my first.

Do you remember your first?

Drive on,
– M.

Subaru Impreza/Miranda Lightstone

~ by drivingmsmiranda on March 30, 2010.