Its 1990. My Dad just bought a 1990 Toyota Tercel notchback coupe. My mom was still driving her yellow 1981 Toyota Corolla Tercel sedan which couldnt make it 2 miles without hemorrhaging all of its coolant every couple of miles. As I was only ten, I didnt know what was wrong with her car. Now, I deduce that it probably had too much water in the radiator and froze over and they just kept driving. After the first, second of fifth time overheating, the head gasket probably went DOA and thats all she wrote.
I remember sitting at Bredemann Ford in Glenview, IL at ten years of age. I can still smell the "new-car smell" eminating from the freshly minted Escorts (the Mazda-based redesign was a hot, new thing), Tempos, Taurus and Aerostars. The salesman (I dont even remember what he looked like) asked my Dad if he was trading anything in. He motioned to the yellow Toyota in the parking lot, just billowing huge clouds of steam into the heavens, like a wounded Cherokee Warrior signaling that he has met the end of his journey. I remember the hearty guffaw the salesman launched at the sight of the mortally wounded Corolla. I look back now and desperately try to recall the reaction of my Father, the typical cheapskate Dad, the PowerStroke, the UberMooch when they presented the numbers to him. I can probably guess that they didnt give him anything for the yellow Bomber, just a mercy killing. Ive taken in "bagels" worse than this and we gave a minimum of $100, but 1990 was the "Wild West" of car sales and I bet he got a big fat goose egg for that car.
I dont know how the hell my Mom wound up with this wierdly optioned car, but we were proud new owners of a blue 1991 Ford Festiva L with a 1.3L four cylinder, 3-speed automatic transmission, color jeyed bumpers (which was the sign of the times, a symbol of wealth and status), 12" steel wheels (instead of the optional 12" alloys, crank windows, no power anything except power brakes, a factory tape-deck but NO A/C. Automatic transmission, tape deck and A/C delete. What a wierd car. I think it was a factory order that somebody backed out on (probably one of the smartest things they did).
The Festiva served as my Moms mode of transportation for five years until it was replaced in 1997 by a black Escort LX sedan. It endured six years of brutal service as my Mom makes Tony Stewart look like a drivers ed teacher. This was the first car I ever drove. I officially learned to drive in my Dad's hunter-green 1995 Ford Escort LX station wagon (which was pretty much the same as the 1992 Escort LX 5-door hatchback that Mr. Earl's weapon of choice for Driver's Ed. His was brown to match his horrible cardigan/deer sweaters).
The Festiva was handed down to my sister in 1997. It was subject to multiple snow and salt filled trips to Marquette university and had numerous "encounters" with concrete objects of various sizes.
The only problems we've ever had is the catalytic converter decided that life wasnt worth living scrubbing the smog from such a small motor and bid its fairwells somewhere on Palatine Road. The alternator belt cried in protest frequently. I snapped a wheel stud (the Festiva had studs instead of lugnuts) and the parking brake stopped working when I forgot to release it after 7 miles.
The final straw the broke the camel's back was when a fusible link went out. No crank, no start, no power except the headlights and horn. It was towed home and the insurance was taken off it. My sister had moved to Germany and I was at military school. I was expecting it as a graduation present since I had gotten it running again. I was fresh in mechanic's school and had to pick the brain of Mr. Shinsako as far as why it was not starting. I replaced a small piece of wire and she magically was ready to go. I replaced the alternator, since it wasnt charging and a new belt.
I was scouting some new fenders, grille, marker lights and headlights from the numerous times my sister crashed it and the one time I went toe-toe with a parked 1977 Oldsmobile Delta 88 Royale.
My Dad had made an executive decision to donate the Festiva to Oakton Community College Auto Shop for the tax writeoff. Mr. Shinsako had us run some diagnostic tests on it for practice and had it junked due to lack of space. A perfectly running, 71k miles, six year old gas-saver, cut short before its time.
Here, I sit now, almost 15 years later. Ive gone through more cars in that time than people have had in three lifetimes. I wonder how long that car wouldvr lasted me. I imagine that the rust would get to it before any real mechanical problems. My ruke of thumb on cars of this caliber is that if the engine, transmission, or body totally gives out, or if the repair bill amounts to more than $1500, then its cat-food can time.
The 1991 Ford Festiva L was the pinnacle of South Korean engineering, an automotive gem brought forth from the ashes of the American Built Escorts and German built Fiestas, the finest that the Ford Motor Company (coughs* Kia *coughs). I have tested the limits of both mam and machine and learned some invaluable truths. Ive learned that the top speed of the Festiva is about 97 and its equipped with a standard feature that allows you to talk to God at that speed, it has SOOO much torque that it outran its catalytic converter and enough to make it a third of the way up the sled hill at Flick Park and it can turn shopping carts into ballistic missiles. Ive learned that in order to maintain the responsibility of operating a fine piece of machinery such as this, one must be a Roadmaster Scholar in the "Law of Sizes." A 2500 lbs car is a meer nuisance to a 4000 lbs Oldsmobile, especially when the Festiva is trying to establish dominance. Ive also learned that 12" radials are near IMPOSSIBLE to find on the rack. Your choices are to wait two weeks for them to be delivered from Japan (now its four weeks, from China), or go to Blain's Farm and Fleet and buy 12" boat trailer tires. Another fact is that when youre engine is smaller than a bottle of Pepsi, you need to plan ahead and stsy out of the left lane. Also, dont lean on your Festiva. Your sheetmetal is triple digit gauge steel. Replacement panels can be purchased in aisle 8 at Jewel-Osco in the tinfoil section. I also learned how to change alternators and belts, brakes and oil changes and I learned what a fusible link is.
As much as Im a fan of the mammoth Detroit rolling iron, I get teary-eyed for my fallen Korean Steed. Long may you run, you glorious bastard.
Crashes to crashes. Rust to rust.
No comments:
Post a Comment