Lil’ Blue.

My first car was a 1970 Opel Kadett Rallye that I bought from a guy named Billy. He was one of the regulars who sat at the counter of Perkins’ Cake and Steak where I was a busboy and waiter. Billy was an nice guy and seemed on the up and up, so I scraped everything I could and paid him $500. The car was a tiny two door. It was originally orange, but Billy decided to give it a new look with a dozen cans of navy blue Krylon. A real looker, that car. 

Billy delivered it to my house and I discovered the first problem. It was a stick shift and I didn’t know how to drive one. My sister Mimi gave me a quick tutorial as we jerked, jumped and stalled through the streets of Poplar Grove. I finally got the hang of it and was tooling around the west side before you knew it. One time I turned the corner at 700 South and 900 West not realizing I should probably slow down. I turned the corner on two wheels. 

Another thing I noticed after a while was that I had been driving for weeks with my brights on. I could never find where to turn them off until I discovered a foot switch on the floor. It was next to another foot switch that squirted the windshield. The washer fluid nozzle was on the hood. I spun it around to squirt forward, much to the surprise of unsuspecting car hops and pedestrians.

Lil’ Blue was my pride and joy. I’d spend lots of time and money at Checker Auto and Gibson’s Discount buying every accessory imaginable. Eight-ball gear shift knobs, barefoot accelerator pedals. pine tree air fresheners and bottle after bottle of Armor All. The interior of my car was so slippery, I was surprised it ever passed safety inspection. I also had a booster seat cushion since bucket seats are not conducive to a 5’4” driver.

My major purchase was the 8-Track tape player. All the cool kids had one, but none of the cool kids were playing Pete Seeger or the soundtracks from “Grease” or “The Muppet Movie”.

The car was pretty gutless. One day at lunch break, my school chums and I headed to Dee’s Drive-In. There were five of us crammed in like a phone booth. Five passengers was two more than allowable, according to the car’s instruction manual. As we lurched heavily up the viaduct like the first hill of a roller coaster, the car stalled. I tried to get it going, but not being great with a clutch, we rolled into the car behind us. Its gutlessness also showed its head when I went to visit my friend Dawn. She lived on “B” Street which was a pretty steep hill. I finally discovered that the only way to get to her house was by winding my way up City Creek Canyon and driving down “B” Street instead. It added about a half hour to the trip, but at least I got there.

An Opel Kadett only weighs about twenty-five pounds. One day after pissing off a few of the football jocks, I went to the parking lot to find it moved from its previous spot into a ditch behind the school. Other abuse came from Joni and Carolyn. They came by my house late one night and spelled out “Hi Scott” on the trunk with Oreos. Oreo cream is pretty corrosive stuff and ate right through the blue Krylon leaving the message in small orange dots.

Yep, it was a pretty fun car which spent most of its life dead in the front of our house. I eventually traded it in on a yellow Volkswagen Rabbit that was smashed by a neighbor kid late one night. But that’s a story for another time.

Rust in peace, Lil’ Blue.