My first car was very small. Sitting in the driver’s seat I could reach over and crank the passenger’s window open or closed without leaning over. The back seat was so small that a toddler would lack room to be comfortable sitting upright and facing forward. Like I said, it was very small. But small was fine with me as I was younger and more agile than I am now and I was usually broke so the economy of a small car was good.
The car was a red Fiat 500 with a manual transmission. The red had no significance, but the 500 identified the engine. Imagine such a little car with 500 horsepower. Oh, wait! I remember now. That 500 did not designate horsepower, rather it was the engine size in cubic centimeters. Today a medium priced riding lawn mower has a larger engine than that. But that’s okay. As stated earlier, I liked small cars with small engines because they are generally cheaper to operate. And this automobile was cheap to buy, also. The price was a mere $300. Considering that it was only three years old, that was pretty cheap, even in 1962.
Of course you get what you pay for and I did not pay for very much. Included in the price was a starter. Unfortunately, it did not start the engine. The starter was installed and attached but it still did not work. I never have been a mechanic so I didn’t bother to look under the hood, if you can call the cover in the back where a storage trunk usually resides, a hood. Even if I had looked, I probably would not have realized all that was wrong with this little vehicle – so why bother?
Prior to the purchase I was aware of the starter problem. There was no way to test drive the car without starting it. So with the standard transmission in neutral, we pushed it, I hopped in and pressed the tiny clutch pedal. I had to be careful to press only the clutch as all the pedals were so small (and my feet so big) and close together (the pedals, not my feet) that it was hard to press any pedal and not get the one next to it at the same time.
With the clutch disengaged, I shifted into first gear and reengaged the clutch. The engine popped to life and I was away on my test drive. The starter could always be repaired or replaced when I finished the three monthly payments and could afford to get the fix. It never happened. Oh, yes, three monthly payments happened. But the starter was never replaced – at least not while I owned this little gasoline powered toy.
This all took place in Dallas, Texas. I realize that this is a digression, but big cities are not my preferred choice for an abode, however Dallas is one of the better ones I have lived in. The weather in Dallas is some of the best I’ve ever spent time in. When I first moved there it was winter, such winter as they have in Dallas. Having been raised in Chicago, Illinois, where the lake effect snow is a common winter visitor, I . . . wait a minute, I’m digressing from my digression. Read the rest of this entry »
