On the morning of December 29, 1987, I wrecked my beloved Cordoba on icy Sunrise Highway on New York's Long Island. I hold myself perhaps more accountable than I should for the accident. After all, it was I and I alone who purchased used tires for the rear of the car not too long before the crash. I may also have been going a tad too fast for the treacherous conditions that day. The Town of Babylon truck driver gets the rest of the blame.
The only consolation I had at the time was that it was time for me to retire the Ole Montalban Cruiser anyway.
After the accident, I rented a 1987 Toyota Corolla FX to get around in until I got myself another car. The FX was a pleasant looking, generic little wedge on wheels. Nothing to look at, really. But she was a sweetheart with a heart of gold and a desire to do nothing but make me happy. Sharp handling, superb braking. A smooth revving, powerful, fuel efficient engine. Airy, spacious cockpit. Great seats. Lots of storage. Hatchback! In short, quite possibly, a perfect car. Especially for a youngster like myself who had a monstrously long commute.
So, needing a car and despite the fact that I loved the little Toyota what did I buy?
A 1982 Buick Riviera, of course!
The Riviera was an underpowered, ill handling lump of pretentiousness that cost me thousands in expensive repairs. She sure was a looker, though. Especially that leather lined interior. I used to joke that it resembled the inside of a dog's mouth. Let's not overlook the acres of plastic fake wood. Hmmm, classy. Well, at least I know I thought so at the time. Truth is, I still think she's gorgeous but then I quickly sober up and remember everything she put me through.
I had the Riv only two years and in that short period of time I spent more on the car and the repairs on it than a brand new FX would've run me. In a way I'm still detoxing from the constant shock of repair bills for that rolling wreck. Transmission. Brakes. Electronics. Suspension. Cooling system. Air conditioning. Yes. It was that bad. This car was so bad that I swore off buying used cars for almost twenty years.
In fairness, though, I bought the Riviera because I believed it to be "more car" than the simple, appliance like Toyota. Also, I needed to buy a cash car. My insurance was already sky high being that I was only 23 at the time. My insurance carrier dropped me when I wrecked the Cordoba and the only insurance I could get after that was astronomically expensive. To save money I needed something I could insure without collision insurance. Risky, but I really had no choice. Finally, being someone at the time who placed a certain amount of cache on flashy vehicles and the choice, for me, was simple. Wrong, ultimately, but simple.
Would I make the same decision today as I did back then? No. Of course not. I often wonder what it would have been like had I went with the trusty FX instead of the lousy Riviera. Part of me thinks I'd still have that cute little red head with the heart of gold.
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