The Car not Worthy of Love (Published March 21, 2022)

 I do not know why, when, or how.  It is one of those things in my life that is pretty much a total blank.  Sometime in the early 1980’s I went to Good Chevrolet in downtown Sacramento and bought a car.  Not just any car, but a Chevrolet Chevette, with a diesel engine.  I have no recollection if another car had failed or why exactly I had to buy this car.  Perhaps the lease had run out on my 240Z, my little Fiat or some other car I owned in this period of my life.  Or perhaps it was because none of the other cars were designed with a back seat for a child.  Perhaps my ex-wife and I just needed a second car, I really do not remember if we had one or two cars at the time.  I also do not remember consulting my ex or even showing her the car.  It really is the strangest thing how this car suddenly came home.  There must have been some deal attached.  Perhaps there was a zero-interest no down payment offers or some remarkable discount?  As totally crazy and unlike me as it seems now, I simply somehow came home with this car.

The only thing I really remember about the car is the price of diesel was considerably less than the price of gasoline.  I loved the car for that reason.  I remember that the nozzle for diesel gasoline is a different size so it is impossible to put regular gasoline in by mistake.  I remember that many stations did not sell diesel gasoline, so it took more effort to find fuel.  I remember driving the Chevette to Mexico on several occasions.  At the time. The Mexican economy was in a tailspin and the peso’s value dropped daily in relation to the US dollar.  As I recall, the price of diesel in Mexico at that time hovered around 5 cents per gallon.  I remember going to a family reunion in Arizona via Mexico to available ourselves to the five cents per gallon deal.  That is one thing about this story that does ring true of me today, a deal is a deal.

This car still existed when Susan and I moved into our first house together.  The car was inoperable.  I do not know exactly what the story was other than the car was dead.  To be honest, I do not remember when or how it died.  All I remember is that it was there in all its splendid glory.     Perhaps that diesel fuel in Mexico was not such a bargain after all?  How the car appeared and how it died are the same, a total blur.  I do remember that someone drove from Redding to pick up the car.  Apparently, diesel engines are in demand, so the person drove three hours each way to get it off the street and paid us for the car to boot! 

Why did I love this car?  Was it that spontaneity that drove me to purchase it?  Was it the bargain price of diesel fuel that allowed to brag what a supercar it was?  Was it the fun of driving it through Mexico?  The car was not worthy of the love I gave it.  Once it was gone, it was forgotten.  Not like other cars I have had that I truly loved and still miss.  The Chevy Chevette will never sit on a pedestal of admiration.  Loving any inanimate object is strange; loving this hunk of steel was even stranger.  

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