Dedicated to Dad…the real captain of the ship, and to Mom, who kept the only known copy of this paper from my senior year in college Creative Writing class.
At some point in our lives the notion of dog being “man’s best friend” is replaced, not by another animal, but by a beast of another sort – the automobile. No one is quite sure when this transition from the warm, loyal to the cold, expensive takes place, but it happens somewhere between the time a person gets his license and when he finally owns his first car (or just drives one, if it belongs to Mom and Dad). It may be a bomb, or it may be a beauty, and although it may start out as a battle between owner and car, with a little respect and a lot of understanding, true love and affection for each other may develop. Such was the case with my first attachment to a car.
Upon starting my junior year of college, my father informed me that I would be given the family car to transport myself from home to school and all-around campus. Lucky for me – unfortunately I was not a happy girl. Our family car was far from luxurious; it was a huge gas-guzzler that I looked at as a monster on the road and a menace to all if I was behind the wheel.
As I packed the car for school, I recalled all the trips this faithful station wagon had taken me on and decided to give it a chance. So, I hopped on the blanket covering the hole in the driver’s seat, counted the clicks until I hit drive because the selector dial was broken, and headed for bigger and better adventures with my new friend, “The Boat,” as it affectionately became known throughout campus.
Driving “The Boat” around was a challenge and took some getting used to at first. Sure, it was convenient to have a car when it was laundry day or when it was time to go grocery shopping or on a rainy day, but every time a bunch of friends piled in the back, I felt like a mother driving the troops off to a cub scout meeting. Being placed in this role I felt more responsible for everyone’s livelihood and driving became a loathsome chore.
Then there were the embarrassing moments when I’d be driving downtown, pass someone I knew, beep the horn at them as a reflex action, and then want to sink right into the hole of the seat before they saw me driving “The Boat.” But it was always too late. Sure enough, the next day I would get abused for my classy auto.
From time to time I’d find myself apologizing and explaining to my passengers about the car I was forced to drive. Soon enough this apologetic attitude changed as I took on a defensiveness for my boat; after all, I was the captain of the ship, head of the fleet, and I had to take pride in the vehicle I operated. The fact that everyone else made fun of it might have had a little something to do with my new protective outlook.
Still, every time I went home, I did everything short of begging my father to trade the boat in for a smaller, more economical car. It even became a joke at our household – when the boat was in the driveway, I was anchored at home. And still, every time I returned to school, I was always sailing “The Boat.”
I’m not quite sure when “The Boat” won me over. It sure wasn’t at our weekly trips to the gas station or when I was trying to parallel park downtown, but somehow it worked its way into my heart. It became very popular among its usual passengers, who seemed to grow just as fond of it as I did. And there was no way I could go anywhere without everyone else knowing where I was; “The Boat” and its captain were noticed everywhere! At least that way we were never forgotten.
On one visit home my father had the front seat re-upholstered, so I can sit tall and proud behind the wheel of what I now like to refer to as my “limo.” The selector dial still doesn’t work, but I can count the clicks with my eyes closed and get it in the right gear every time. And who cares if the inside light doesn’t work? We can find what we lost in the dark the next day. “The Boat” still holds my whole pledge class (all 15 of them), and it’s roomy enough to go on a comfortable road-trip. My bomb of a car may be a boat, but its captain and its crew are still afloat with much faith and pride in the way it sails the roads.
**This post appears here exactly as it was submitted to my professor in 1985 except for a few grammatical corrections my typewriter (yes, typewriter) didn’t recognize and an expansion of the title. It was interesting for me to compare the young writer from one Creative Writing class to the current writer from my adult Creative Writing class who wrote “Dystopia: Gone.”
11 comments On Car Satire: The Boat from the ’80s**
I had a Chevy Vega,get this,orange and white and after 4 years of college had windows that wouldn’t roll (yes roll) closed!! I was so happy to start making money so I could buy my own new car. Ah,but I do have fond memories of that Vega!!!
I think you had your writing talent back then too! You sound like yourself today . Cute story! We called our station wagon – the Conestoga Wagon ! Great memories . You were lucky to have the boat and it kept you safe!
Hilarious….remember those same feelings with our “boat”! Absolutely talented author!
Jackie. This was really cool to read. I enjoy and look forward to your insights. I enjoy being in your shoes and seeing through your eyes through your writing. This made me smile and in turn helped make my day just a little brighter. Thank you.
Seems you’ve always been a writer, talented from the getgo! We also had an oversized wagon. I loved the wagons where the back window rolled down…. but I really can’t remember if we had that upgrade!
Jackie – I just heard that you had a blog, and had to read. Love your work!
Your story reminds me of my car from the 80’s – a Honda Civic called “The Legend.” I bought it for $100 and sold it 2 years later for $150. It passed Jaguars in the right lane! The only problem at the end of my ownership was that the passenger door wouldn’t secure and fly wide open if I took left turns. That wasn’t good for dates – especially on the streets of Carlisle! It sounds like The Legend was on the road the same years that The Boat was crusin’ so I wonder if they ever crossed paths. Who knows? Good ole days!!!
I’m thrilled to have your tag along for Scout’s adventures! Hope all is well with you and your family. Ironically, I was in Carlisle today visiting MJ!!!
HA!! I LAUGHED OUTLOUD BECAUSE I WAS IN THAT BOAT MANY TIMES….lets see, our whole pledge class crammed inside needing to get to from point a to b quickly`~ and you at the helm being in charge-the time we got up at the crack of dawn to go chick hunting for a special Easter gift! and the chicks first ride was in the boat! you had that talent for writing then for sure, and still do. love love love it. i still see you driving with the big blue hoodie sweatshirt with the letters and the white visor. HA! we were so young. thanks for the good read
Jackie, I really love reading your blog! Your voice is so present and authentic in every situation —hope to see you again soon!
Great piece. I have a smiling reading it. I remember giving my daughter, Trisha the gray Frord Taurus for high school days. Great stories and memories. Keep writing
And look at you now, Jackie! Your dear friend, The Boat was just the beginning of your many adventures on the road. For me, it was a baby blue Ford Pinto hatchback that was not able to go in reverse. The car had been famously recalled but somehow mine survived. Yikes. Fabulous story and yes, such talent in those early days! Keep these endearing amazing stories flowing!
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About the Author
Mother of two boys, house manager, ex-chauffeur, organizer of all things, pet proprietor.
Seeking to find my voice through the written word.
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