THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, January 1, 1995 TAG: 9412300261
SECTION: CAROLINA COAST PAGE: 08 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Column
SOURCE: Ron Speer
LENGTH: Medium: 71 lines
I've fallen in love again, which is an awfully nice way to start the new year. And my understanding wife doesn't mind, which makes it even better.
The object of my affection is big, old and well-traveled, but she's still frisky and her flashy looks still turn men's heads.
She's a 1986 Ford LTD station wagon, a long, beige beauty that may be the queen of all the old cars that have captured my fancy over the years.
I call her Tan Pants.
We've been together but a week, so obviously there's a chance the romance could sour. But my gut feeling tells me this is a match made in heaven.
I like big cars, and they don't get much bigger than Tan Pants. She's about as long as a train engine, and just about as heavy. If she collided head-on with a semi-trailer truck it would be a draw.
Tan Pants caught my eye when I drove past a used-car lot in downtown Manteo on the way to work. For years I've lusted over that particular style of station wagon - and this one glistened. I wheeled around my '83 Buick - which I never named - and checked her out, with nobody about.
Since the Buick was still getting me around, I drove off. But that night I stopped again, with no plans to do anything more than admire her chassis. But I was hooked, and tossed and turned all night.
The next morning I waited until the lot opened, stopped in and lost my head and my heart when I found out she purred like a kitten and had been driven but 77,000 miles. She also had no fancy electronics, which I prefer in older cars because there's less to worry about.
I had a bit of a problem with the cost. The most I've ever paid for one of my aging beauties is $2,000, which is what my Buick cost me four years ago.
But I figured that inflation probably had affected everything else since then. Besides, cost is not a factor when your heart is throbbing. I shelled out $2,250 and drove Tan Pants home.
I took my wife for a ride and she gave my new wheels her blessing, although burly, well-worn cars are not her bag at all. Tan Pants, she agreed, was a bit flashier than most of the cars I buy.
Later I retrieved the Buick, and took her to a garage for the long-needed replacement of the automatic choke. For a few years, the Buick had been sputtering until she warmed up. And since I decided to send her off to my son, I wanted her in as close to mint condition as you can get a car that has rolled up 108,000 miles.
When I turned the key in the Buick - with a new choke - she started right up and sounded like a '95 model. I felt sort of depressed.
My conscience reminded me that she had been a faithful steed for nearly 50,000 miles and had never let me down. If I had just paid her a bit more attention, and replaced the choke months ago, I probably would have never given up on her.
Was it fair to cast her off for Tan Pants, who has yet to prove herself?
But all's fair in love and war. And I was in love. Besides, the Buick is staying in the family.
I parked the Buick behind the garage, jumped into Tan Pants and went for a ride.
She raced down the road as enthusiastically as any new set of wheels.
I'm already planning a carpenter project that I have been putting off, because I can haul enough lumber in her long, broad behind to build the biggest set of book shelves in history.
She'll engulf enough firewood in her cavernous interior to last me all winter. And if we ever have to flee in the face of a hurricane, Tan Pants could carry to safety nearly everyone and every thing we care about.
Besides, as guys used to say before we got politically correct, ``she's built.'' by CNB