Paco - the story behind the Car.

When I turned 16 I didn't get my license. I got my license when I was 18 and after I graduated high school. I was not getting a car at 16 or 18. In fairness, I never really asked or worked for one. I began my time at Ohio State University without a car but in truth I really didn't need one at school either. For much of my life I have disliked driving. I prefer sitting in the passenger seat while someone else drives and I get to tune out to good music and enjoy the sights outside the passenger window. I prefer driving when I don't trust the other driver's driving ability or music tastes. If it wasn't for the simple fact that asking a girl out minus car let alone minus license is rather difficult then the whole ordeal would have been ignored. I am not a big car guy either. I cannot fix them. I don't know much about them. I don't get all excited about cars with infinite horse power, big engines or kick ass stereo systems. I casually subscribe to the notion that a car is a device to take you from point A to point B and back, with occasional round trips to points C, D, L, Q and Y.

So why am I devoting a whole blog post to a car? Because it was my first and for some reason I do miss him.

I got Paco as a hand me down from my older brother. Paco was a late 90's VW Beetle. He was not fast but he had a little kick for a little guy. He was not roomy but sitting in the front seats was like sitting in a bubble. He was red. He was not very manly. He was round, oh so round. He had character. He represented his owner far better than his owner could keep him clean. Paco was named by my older brother. I cannot honestly remember why. I think my brother just felt like he was a Paco. It fit. it worked. We rolled with it.

I got Paco as a hand me down in 2004. I am not complaining. I didn't think I needed a car. I was currently living in Columbus, Ohio. My brother was getting a new car and despite my brother having a certain sentimental attachment to Paco, he was ready for a new car. If anything it allowed me to make trips home to see family. With over 122,000 miles on Paco, we drove. I didn't do much driving in the beginning. I didn't do much driving the first few years with Paco. No need at university. There would be the occasional trip to the mall or to a dinner. It allowed an occasional return trip home or an outing with a lady. After five years I had driven Paco 44,000 miles. Gosh, I miss that car.

Paco in many ways would come to identify me or my personality. I do not know why exactly. I think some saw it as an unconventional car for a unconventional guy. I think that is crap. Some thought it was a perfect fit; A rather sissy car for a not so manly guy. I think that is crap as well. Others simply suggested without explanation that Paco was the right car for me. I tend to agree. Some things are better left unsaid or without explanation.

I liked Paco because he was a bit different. What do I mean? Well, I drive a Mazda now and when I get out of work or a movie, my new car is much more difficult to find in a crowded parking lot. I liked Paco because he was scrappy and a fighter. What do I mean? Well, if you know me then you know I am not the greatest driver. Any car I have will get into accidents, be pushed to the limit, given considerable wear and tear, as well as be witness to my rock out sessions during stops at red lights. I liked Paco because he listened? Yes, I'm a big girl and talked to my car like it was my therapist. If these wheels and seats could talk... my goodness. Paco was cool. I had a little 6 inch Scooby-Doo doll that sat on the dashboard and we road like really really really cool people. Nothing cooler than that.

Paco and I had our difficulties. It wasn't all sweet tea. I got Paco with a broken driver's seat frame which meant the seat could not be adjusted and in its fixed position would rock back and forth. A condition that according to a mechanic would be a big problem if i were to get into an accident. If an accident were to occur I could be catapulted out of my car. Fun? I think not. From the beginning, Paco had little to no air conditioning and insufficient heating abilities. The lack of air condition made summers difficult. It is a belief of mine that the two worst places to feel uncomfortable due to heat are your bed and your car. The lack of heat in winter made things challenging. For many of the winters, Paco and I were without an ice scraper. I don't really know why. I'm an idiot. With a car that took forever to warm up, the window defrost was a dull proposition. It became increasingly awkward when last winter my car had the nasty habit of getting frosted over on the inside which meant I had to scrape ice from my car with a nonexistent window scraper on the inside and outside of my car.

I had been in a couple of driving accidents as well. One was by the front passenger tire. It was in the early morning and I was late to a french film exam. I had just completed a five page essay that I had finished the morning due because I was up late the previous night arguing with my girlfriend, about what I do not recall. I was turning left and bam! I ran my car into another. I swear it came out of now where. I say that because I honestly did not see it. On the lighter side, I totally destroyed the guy's front drivers side tire. It was my fault. I was in a rush and bad things happen when you rush and drive. I was rear ended not too long after. It was a stormy night and my rear bumper got a little love tap from the car behind. A big enough tap to leave a faint imprint of the license plate. I had signaled the car behind me to pull over to exchange information but the bastards ran off. I got into another accident while driving to work because I was in a rush, again. Nothing major. No one was hurt in any of my motor vehicle incidents.

Paco didn't have locks that worked. The electronic key had failed me after about a year and each manual lock had been replaced at least once. Two years ago each lock had broken and no key could lock or unlock the car. This meant if the car was locked I had to sneak in through the trunk. The windows would work, sometimes. The windows would sometimes get jammed and not roll all the way up which created a fear in me when arriving at poll stops and drive thru's. Paco was a manual shift car and last year the emergency brake broke which made parking on hills a little difficult. Gosh, I miss that car.

Paco was with me in Fayetteville, Arkansas. It was there in Columbus and Cleveland, Ohio. It was with me for the places in between. I remember the first time I drove a girl on a date with Paco. I don't remember the where but I remember Paco was the car that got us there. I was able to fit much of my life in Paco. Like I previously mentioned... Paco was like a therapist. I concocted crazed ideas, lamented over girls, pondered fears, broke down, sang, danced and rejoiced inside Paco like it was a cave or haven for an emotional side I let few see. I think that is why I miss him most. It might be an error in my judgment but Paco knew more about me than anyone. Is that sad? Maybe, but for a person uncomfortable with emotional outpouring beyond face value, I needed a safe place. Paco was that safe place when home was a different place from year to year and a best friend was not near but far, and a loved one absent.

thank you Paco. I guess I now understand why people tend to be so attached to their first car. It took me a long time to figure out what to say so all I can do is give thanks and say goodbye.