Windmills On Wheels

There has been a lot of talk about cars and driving lately, with the whole kidspot top 50 and the ‘drive’ posts flying about the interweb, so I thought I would share the story of my first car.



She looked like this one - image from here



I began driving at the ripe old age of 17 like many other Aussie kids do, the only difference was that I was 7 and a half months pregnant with Buzz and it wasn’t my parents that taught me but my Holden Commodore driving husband to be.

My driving instructor was an old bloke with a great sense of humour who had been teaching for a long time, he had a daewoo which I did the log book lessons in and every time I turned a corner in it  I put the windscreen wipers on instead of the indicator.

‘J’ the driving instructor was absolutely petrified that I was going to give birth in his car during one of the lessons and when my gigantic tummy prevented me from turning around in my seat without wincing he signed me off on the reverse parallel park without me having to actually do it which may not have been a good thing as to this day I haven’t even attempted it once.

Much to J’s mortification Buzz indeed came a month early and a full three days before I sat my final test to get my P’s. Buzz was in perfect health despite being a tad prem and we were released from hospital by midday on that third day just in time to get home and sit the driving test at 3pm. The look on J’s face when I walked out the front door and introduced him to my new arrival was priceless.

With baby Buzz safely in the hands of then husband-to-be I headed out, passed the test and became the 2 millionth P plate driver of a Red VN Holden Commodore.

That car was the hubby’s baby, but he had access to a work car and I needed it more than he did so he begrudgingly handed over the keys. The amount of times people saw my car with its P plates and tried to race me off the lights that first year was ridiculous, I was having no part in it with my precious cargo on board of course but the way people would tailgate and fishy behind me to try and evoke a response was downright dangerous.

Not long after her engine blew up, through old age I might add and nothing to do with my driving! We made the expensive decision to give her a heart transplant and do some other over-due work and about $3000 later she was like new again. Exactly two weeks after we had her home from the mechanic and before we increased our insurance some kids stole her took her for a joy ride and wrote her off. I tell you there is nothing quite as sobering to a 3am phone call from a police officer asking if you have lent your car to anyone!

The hubby couldn’t bear to part with her and bought the wreck back at the insurance car auction – her mangled body lay in our driveway in a bogan-esque fashion for about two years before hubby was able to say his final goodbyes, I think he may have even shed a tear as she disappeared from view for the final time on the back of a tow truck.

My Pop had one like this:

He loved it so much that when it died, he actually buried it on his property.

When did you learn to drive and what was your first car?