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I’ve mentioned the fact that the original 1960 Ford Fairlane 500 was given a disrespectful kick to the curb after six years of loyal service.  

I was graduating from college after cramming four years worth of higher education into five.  I’d just left the third interview for my first job after college and accepted their offer of $14,000 a year which I figured was more money than a single human being could ever actually spend.  On top of that princely sum was an additional $400 a month for a car allowance.  The financial gods had indeed smiled down on me in ways once thought inimaginable..

Before even going home to Buttercup and sharing the news with her that we were rich, I made my way to Cactus Chevrolet to select something off the new car showroom befitting a man of my new found stature.  A Malibu was too plebeian.  A Impala or Caprice shouted “Grandparents”.  A Camaro was for someone still in college looking for his next six pack and a volunteer to go back to the fraternity house.  A Chevette was for someone who couldn’t spell ‘fraternity’’; a Citation too generic.

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No, there was only one model at Cactus Chevrolet that really was worthy.  A Monte Carlo.  Sporty.  Luxurious.  Sophisticated.  Sure, it would eat up all that $400 car allowance and then some, but it was important that I look the part in this new grown up world I was venturing into.  The one I picked out was Navy blue over a Navy blue cloth interior.  Bucket seats.  Most every option save for a vinyl top that I thought was gauche, even back then.  They gave me almost nothing for a 1960 Ford Fairlane 500 that was over two decades old, and I didn’t even care.  “I’m soon to be making $14,000 a year.  So what if the payments are on the high side.,” I thought to myself.  I may have even said it out loud because I saw the salesman smiling across the desk.

I think I missed the Fairlane 500 for a few minutes while the paperwork was being completed.  But I got over that the first time I turned the air conditioning on in the new Monte Carlo, something I’d never been able to do in the Ford.  Is there anything more intoxicating than that New Car Smell?  I don’t think so.

It was probably six months later, as I was driving down Highway 10, that the wood appliqué that stretched across the dash in front of the passenger seat fell off and laid on the floor for no apparent reason.  There followed events when the Monte Carlo wouldn’t start.  Trips to the service department at Cactus Chevrolet became a common occurrence.  The New Car Smell seemed to dissipate considerably, although the payments were the same every month.  And there seemed to be a lot of them in my future.

Within a year, Buttercup was pregnant.

I had taken a lot of finance classes in order to attain my business degree.  There were two important finance-related things that were either never taught, or I just slept in on the days they were covered in class.  The first was how expensive Rice Krispie Treats really can be.  The second is the fact that a new car loses 35% of its value the minute you enjoy air conditioning the very first time.

What do these two seemingly unrelated facts have to do with each other?  Well, Buttercup was going to no longer be able to work once our first bundle of joy arrived.  Due to what I’m sure was an incredible Rice Krispie Treat, our income would be curtailed at the same time our expenses would be on the rise.  And the new car I had coveted represented a huge expense we didn’t need.  Because of no down payment and accelerated depreciation, the Chevrolet was worth far less than was owed against it.

In the midst of all that gnashing of teeth, my grandfather unexpectedly passed.  In order to haul out-of-town relatives to the funeral, I made arrangements to borrow my in-law’s conversion van.  This is where the plot thickens.

I left the Monte Carlo parked on the street in front of their house, and took the van for the night.  While we were ferrying around grieving relatives something dramatic took place.  A sixteen-year-old kid in the neighborhood where my in-laws lived got his driver’s license.  To celebrate, he took the new car his folks had just bought him out for a spin doing about 60 MPH through the neighborhood.

Buttercup’s parents lived right where the street curves.  The dynamics involved in taking that curve are different at 60 MPH than they are at posted speeds.  Sparky, behind the wheel of his new ride, didn’t understand those laws of physics, apparently.  He lost control of his new car as it rounded the bend, swerved up into their yard and then hit the passenger side of the Monte Carlo as he headed back to the street.  I’m sure if his new car was still running he would have attempted to flee the scene.  Luckily he couldn’t.

Of course, it was a blessing he wasn’t hurt.  The bigger blessing (only to me, I’m sure) is that the Monte Carlo was totaled.  The kid’s insurance company wrote a full check for the Monte Carlo, which was more than I owed on it.

What does that have to do with a 1978 Oldsmobile Delta 88 Royale Town Sedan?  Everything.  You see, there was enough money left over after paying off the Monte Carlo to be able to pay cash for a green over green 1978 Oldsmobile Delta 88 Royale Town Sedan.  I found the car in the Want Ads of the Stockton Telegram-Dispatch.  It was low mileage, one owner, and as green as a car could possibly get.  And the price was right.  I met the owner in the parking lot of the Piggly Wiggly and wanted to hug him when I saw the car.  He saw Buttercup, several months pregnant standing beside the rental car and cut the price by another $200.  I liked to say “the price was knocked off because you were knocked up”.  Buttercup enjoyed that as much as she did driving a green over green 1978 Oldsmobile Delta 88 Royale Town Sedan.  But I’ll be darned if she wasn’t able to stay home with our newborn and haul a lot of formula and diapers in the arse end of that big old Olds sedan.  It was easy to get a baby seat in and out of those big rear doors, to boot.

Sometimes things just work out for the best in ways you never would have expected.  Sometimes bench seats trimmed in green velour upholstery joined by matching door panel inserts and carpeting and amenities including woodgrain dashboard trim, a folding center armrest, courtesy lamps, a glovebox lamp, metal pedal accents, a rear defogger are gifts from heaven.  And sometimes a stupid sixteen-year-old kid behind the wheel of a new car his daddy bought for him is better than Santa Clause delivering gifts.

Was it the last time I learned financial lessons the Texas university system neglected to teach me?  Of course not.  But it set me on the right path of learning.

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