Your Last Car

Back when I was starting college in 1967. I know, looking at my picture it's hard to believe, right? I was ready to buy my first car. Being a die hard Ian Fleming fan, I really wanted something English, but obviously, Bond's Bentley or Aston Martin were out of the question. So I figured I'd look for an MG or something like it. I confess, I wasn't well versed in either the full model lineup, or the spotty reputation of their Lucas Electrics whose refrigerators, so the joke goes, are reputed to be the reason Brits drink warm beer.

No internet back then, so my Dad and I went to see a little 1962 MG 1100 that was in the classifieds. Expecting to find a low slung, two-seat convertible, I was surprised to find a car that looked a bit like a Mini-Cooper with a pretty, formal grill.

OK, not the babe-mobile I was imagining, but it was clean, low mileage, had red leather seats and a real walnut dashboard. It simply oozed old world charm, and we bought it for $550. I paid Dad back with my summer work money, and drove my little English beauty to UH as maybe the freshest freshman imaginable.

That began the lifelong journey of a certifiable car nut. 30 cars in all for just me, along with 9 various spousal units. I started with more British stuff. My greatest loves were two big Austin-Healeys...

There were another three MG's, this time the MGB roadster...

And my first new car purchase, a 1970 Triumph Spitfire...

That picture was in a girlfriend's driveway in Galveston, when I worked a summer as an announcer at a kind of low rent Marineworld called Sea-Arama. My boss there was an old retired DJ and he got me started in radio and TV news. So, for anyone who has heard me over the years, it's all his fault.

After a bunch of sports cars of all nationalities, I drove an old Jeep CJ-5 on my honeymoon in Mexico, and fell in love. That began a string of Jeeps that continued for years.

But now comes what is to me at least, a fairly sobering thought. I hung up the headphones back in March and ended 56 years doing this for a living. I'll continue writing and doing our new podcast, Another Fine Mess, but as far as the world sees it, I'm retired. I'm also 76 now. I know, please, any old girlfriends out there, no need to tell me I haven't changed a bit. No, really stop, you're embarrassing me.

And we live in a small town in East Texas. So it hit me, why do we still have two cars? Every article I have read about retirement talks about the things you don't need anymore, and a separate work car is one of them. We figured we should pick out something we both like and as far as Karen is concerned, a stick shift is out of the question.

She had a few years ago, a nice little Jaguar X-type sedan, which was unfortunately crunched on an icy parking lot when I worked in Wyoming. I loved it as well for the same reasons that I fell for the little MG 60 years ago.

So, we are in the process of purchasing a lovely, low-mileage example. When I was writing about cars as a sideline, one old friend at General Motors used to joke that Oldsmobile, with it's older customer base, was the only manufacturer that offered a "Last-Time Buyers" program. We both laughed a lot at that, and then...

Then it hit me. Holy crap, that's me! Oh sure, I may weaken and get a toy or we may crunch the Jag or it may prove to be another example of a British car joke. But if it's as dependable as the first one was, then this could well be my last car.

I know I'm sounding a bit maudlin here. But the health is good and I plan to annoy everyone with this stuff for years to come. It is though, a disturbing sign of mortality. I lose old friends every year. Those cool guys and gals I went to school with, or knew in various newsrooms over 5 decades.

But there is a scene in the movie "Network," which I saw as I was leaving radio and moving to TV, where William Holden is trying to explain an extra-marital fling to his anguished wife. He tells her, "There comes a time when you realize you're nearer the end than the beginning."

It made me think when I saw it two weeks after I turned 27, and it does now. Believe me, I know, now I'm getting cloyingly saccharine but there are times in everyone's life, probably more significant than buying a silly car, where you pause for a moment and take stock. And because I have always been a car nut, and obviously pretty shallow, this was one for me.

But, hey, if I need to cheer up, I'll just go for a drive.