Sunday, June 8, 2014

Of Man And Machine

This is a guest post by the one and only Map Guy. An unsolicited blog post. I know, I couldn't believe it either. And now you will all know that not only does the guy make maps, but he writes, too. And he writes well. None of the sweary, ranty stuff that I do. He needs a blog.

So we did it. We bought a new (to us) car. As I sit hear smiling at our shiny new set of wheels and pour over feature lists for hidden goodies from those talented engineers I can’t help but shed a small tear for the great lump of metal that carried our family around for the last 4 years.

That’s right, our big red Territory is the only car Tricky remembers as a family ride and it’s just a little bit special that we were all in there the day Bobbin triumphantly arrived home.

It makes me stop and think. Which car was I brought home in? What did mum use to drop me at school on that very first day? What underpowered machine was I lucky enough to learn how to drive in? Funny enough I remember that Toyota Corona station wagon; and if you were a kid growing up in suburban or regional Australia I bet you remember your milestone cars too.

The schoolyards were awash with badge-snob divisions. Kids riding in Camry sedans, Falcon station wagons and I’m sure I can remember playing a lengthy game of eye-spy with my brother on opposite seats in a Land Cruiser troop carrier on a 20 hour overnight trip.

We remember the clunky three speed manuals, the rattly non-turbo diesels and the lucky kids with their Bathurst loving V8 driving folks (ah, if only).

I miss my family cars. I miss my own motley collection of Aussie built Fords that have seen me through these first 14 years of adulthood. Taking a memory-walk past the Coronas, Cruisers and Falcons that peppered my life-shaping events I took a little time to just sit in the Territory. I soaked up a little of what we left in those seats and consider just what a hunk of rolling metal might mean to the little boy and girl in my life who don’t remember looking out from anything else.

Sometimes cars have more to tell us than their tiny scrapes, dents and lengthy odometer readings can attest.

Perhaps we all have an emotional connection to our first childhood cars? What do you remember about your family’s cars?

Glow: I remember being dropped at school in an orange Datsun Stanza with a tan roof. Retro, baby!

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