The monkey made me do it

vroom vroom vroom

My friend Lucy was an odd duck. She was a bit forgetful when it came to names and identities, so to simplify her life she decided that everything she owned would be named Sadie (it's a nice name, after all). Her dog, her rabbit, her truck, all of her friends - we'd just turn whenever we heard "Sadie!", certain that she'd forgotten our names again. Or, alternately, that her dog/rabbit/truck was about to attack us.

I made the mistake of asking her to help name my first car, a 1981 Chevrolet Sprint that was that odd tone between tan and gold, and that featured vinyl seats and a spider-web crack in the roof that my optimistic father decided wasn't the result of a rollover, but instead possibly from a bowling ball dropping mishap or having been driven by an NBA player.
Her name was Sadie, of course.

Sadie was the smallest car ever made. Driving it felt like the vehicular equivalent of streaking - my butt felt exposed and inches from the concrete, and the windows and windshield were close enough and tight enough to feel indecent. I'll never forget my first venture onto the freeway, where I had the spectacular misfortune of merging between two semi trucks with a THIRD in the fast lane. I could see underneath all three, and the close-up of all 16...32...48 (yes, I had to get my calculator. shush.) gigantic wheels spinning inches from my exposed little tin can almost made me swear off driving forever. Then I discovered that the lack of mass made Sadie's little three cylinders work like rocket jet packs and worked with her constantly changing wardrobe of dents to create the dorkiest hot rod racer in existence. My friend Patty had a Subaru Brat (southwest WA has some mighty fine rides, as you can see) and we'd see who could go the fastest from her freeway exit to her driveway, a straight shot past a dairy farm and park, and still make the sharp 90-degree turn into her gravel drive. It was a little over a mile total distance. I got up to 82 mph, which I think is still the record.

There was another good section of road in my hometown that went over a railroad track just as it crested a hill, creating a bump that, if taken at 60-65 mph, created a few feet of air and an incredibly satisfying bounce in the landing. I had a couple of younger brothers of a friend in the back seat that had refused to buckle up the entire trip, and had been calling me "MOM" for lecturing them. As we turned onto the road/jump, I sneaked a glance with their older sister in the front seat, who simply nodded and pulled her seat belt tight. With no warning to the little demons in the backseat, I sped up to 70+ and launched Sadie airborne for what seemed like hours. The kids were on the roof, floating like astronauts, and rebounded around the back half of the car like hyperactive ping-pong balls when we finally hit the road again. I had to pull over, we were laughing so hard (my friend and I - the boys were too busy threatening lawsuits to truly enjoy the ride).

We also abused poor Sadie when it came to her transportation skills. The 2-door hatchback was used every soccer practice to transport as many people as possible from the school to the field. The record, and I remember this because my little brother was wedged sideways in the 12-inch "trunk" space between the back seat and hatchback, was 8 people and two french horns. Sadie listed. Sadie developed a scraping sound, but we made it somehow across town and she forgave me enough to soldier on for another couple of years. I don't remember why I was carrying two french horns. Please don't ask.

My friends loved my car, I would lend her to just about anybody and didn't care about dents. She was light enough for two people to lift, which I loved since it meant that I never had to learn how to parallel park since my brother and I could just pick her up and move her. It also, unfortunately, meant that my highly resourceful friends could pick her up and move her, which resulted in many nights of "Where did I park?" turning into "How the hell did they get her up there?!".

For continuity's sake, my subsequent two cars were also named Sadie. If this gets confusing, just realize that you are anthropomorphizing vehicles anyways and that a little bit of abstract logic sometimes makes the world go 'round. And then name something you own Sadie.

posted by LadyJay @ 2:44 PM