If buying and selling used cars for no profit was a sport, dad would have definitely made the allstar team. By my rough count, at least 20 used cars passed through our family while I lived at home. If I had the time and a good calculator I could probably get a good estimate on how many brake jobs, oil changes, tune ups, tire changes, and other repairs that he performed over the years. Mr. Goodwrench would have quit early on.
Some of the vehicles weren’t bad. But some of them weren’t very good at all. Sometime during the 1970’s Dad purchased a slightly used Ford Pinto station wagon. The words Pinto and station wagon really shouldn’t be used in the same sentence. It wasn’t a big car but it was a constant problem. One day when he was driving the car to work it caught fire. He quickly grabbed his lunch box and walked away from the car. He was smiling thinking about collecting the insurance and buying a real car. About that time he heard screeching tires as a pickup slid to a stop. The driver jumped out with a fire extinguisher and put out the fire.
The man was expecting a thank you when my dad said, “You have to be the only SOB in Alabama who drives around with a fire extinguisher in your truck!”
The only new vehicle that I remember was one that dad purchased in 1978. It was a lime green VW bus. It was the only one of its kind that I remember. It seems funny until I think about my bright orange Scion Xb. Can a love for gaudy cars be genetic?