A Real Car, At Last

As a ten year-old kid from humble surroundings in rural Pennsylvania, the prospect of our family purchasing a new car was cause for major excitement.  While my parents had bought a new car when I was three, I retained no memories of the event.  The few other vehicles our family had owned during my lifespan were second-hand, lacking the aura and mystique of "new".  For all practical purposes, I had not experienced the wonder of shopping for and adopting a new vehicular family member.

My parents aspired to a lifestyle befitting subscribers to "Mother Earth News", as such their transporters of choice had been Volkswagen Beetles and a Saab station wagon.  This was before Saabs had any snob-appeal, the word most accurately describing their mechanized persona in that era was "quirky".  Somehow, in the course of my hippie parents leading their back-to nature lifestyle, they produced a materialistic, environmentally-unfriendly, fossil-fuel-worshipping car-guy.  Volkswagens and Saabs were the bane of my existence.  In spite of the fact I had nearly six years to wait before I could legally operate a vehicle on public highways, I had a yearning for transportation born of a Detroit auto maker.  No more underpowered, goofy looking rattle traps for us, Dad, let's get a rear wheel drive, four door sedan!  Please!!!

The transportation gods smiled upon me.  Our recent relocation to a very rural area, one that would allow my parents' realization of their holistic sodbusting existence, meant we resided nowhere near a foreign car dealership.  Not only were they unable to have their current mechanized idiosyncrasies repaired, but replacing them with others in their ilk was nearly impossible.  The only new vehicles available locally bore bowties (Chevrolets) and blue ovals (Fords) upon their hoods.  Hours of my droning on about the virtues of the Corvette proved fruitful.  Dad agreed the place to obtain our new horseless-carriage would be the local Chevy dealer.  Off we went, myself being the sole family member sincerely interested in this endeavor.

Modest means and family hauling requirements dictated we look at the Nova sedan.  Having experienced almost inconceivable success in convincing Dad to consider buying a Chevy, I wasn't going to push my luck further by lobbying for a two-door fastback.  The dealership had two examples of the model we intended to purchase, the one we could afford was brown with brown cloth interior.  The test drive was taken, the deal was made, the car was delivered.

Looking back on the scene from the perspective of someone enjoying the state of automobiledom circa 2007, that 1976 Nova sedan was poor excuse for transportation.  It is the epitome of why Japanese automakers now own their gigantic share of the automobile market in North America.  From the perspective of a ten year-old kid who rode to the Chevrolet store in an old rattletrap, that new Nova was a limousine fit for kings and presidents. 

Arriving at school the following day I felt as a celebrity must feel when stepping from their chauffeured ride onto the red carpet at an awards ceremony.  I perceived all eyes to be upon me, envying my mode of delivery.  I couldn't wait for the inevitible complements from friends and teachers.  As a budding automobile enthusiast, days like this are remembered with the warmest of emotions, the most pleasant of feelings.  Sure, there were flashier and more expensive cars, but I couldn't have been more proud than I was in that brown sedan.  A real car, at last.