Friday, February 8, 2019
My Dad and Old Cars Essay -- Personal Narrative Writing
My atomic number 91 and Old Cars Some people bring home stray dogs. My stick brings home stray autos. He gets emotionally attached and eventually puts them on life support. This keeps them viable long beyond the time other family members right to vote to pull the plug. He drives a 1968 VW van that chugs along on its trey rebuilt engine. My big brother vows to bury dad in it. The 1971 VW Bug that he employ for fifteen years is still operable, but since a teenagers cornerstone went through the rusted floorboards to the street below, its been relegated to the retirement home his driveway. He continues salaried on the life insurance policy but he has sign a Do Not Resuscitate waiver. My scram went off to college in a 1931 Model A Ford. In the back seat of that car, on an old country road, I made love for the first time. at once it sits under a blue parachute in the driveway. Mice breed in the upholstery and the ceiling fabric hangs in shreds, but my pay back is convinced the c ar will awaken from its coma and live to cruise again.A 1960 Plymouth intrepid that drove like a tank and sounded like a B-52 suffered explosive paralysis one car-pooling break of day when both front wheels turned at right angles to the frame of the car, bringing it to a sudden and permanent halt. indisposed to assign the car to a nameless grave in Potters Field, my father paid to apply it hauled to a vocational school. Prince Valiant became a vehicular cadaver the old thing may even have ferment an organ donor.We dont buy new cars. According to my dad, You never know what faculty go wrong with a new car, and you could get a lemon. I say, But we know even less about a used car. People dont sell their cars when everythings fine. They sell them when things start going wrong. ... ...car key. My dad, the guy with the subdued spot for homeless old cars in need of a settle meal and a soft bed, had made good on a long-standing promise of a decent car.It took him six months of sco uring the ads, but hed bought me a car thats only five years old. Its an Acura Legend and appears to be in excellent health. The leather seats are as comfortable as the Peugeots, no gremlins live in the CD player, and the AC and heating systems have no viruses. The sunroof is dry as a bone, and the car starts whenever I turn the key. Overall, Id say the car has a superb attitude. That first morning of new ownership, I stood staring in awe at this pureness beauty. Then the rest of my life spread before me as my father said, And we can give it to Bria when she starts driving. It should have all the bugs worked out of it by then. Bria is my five-year-old niece.
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