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They say you never forget your first love.

Mine was a yellow and white 1973 Volkswagen Super Beetle.

Practical Man found the Bug for me online and thought we should buy it.  I had finally been successfully treated for a fainting disorder that had plagued me (and my driver’s license) for 15 long years.  No more keeling over, it seemed.  So, I could finally drive again.

It was time, Practical Man said.

I protested a bit.  It was a luxury…not a necessity.  And by the way, I said (hands on hips, as that is how I pretend I am momentarily practical), a classic VW Beetle definitely isn’t practical:  no heat for Canadian winters, only usable half the year (or less), liable to rust out from under us, blah, blah, blah.  It wasn’t remotely “utilitarian” (one of Practical Man’s necessities in a vehicle) and it definitely couldn’t carry a sheet of plywood in the back (that’s one of Practical Man’s tests to measure those flashy, practical-wannabe vehicles that act like they’re oh-so utilitarian but hah! can’t even carry a sheet of plywood in the back).

My beetle - yellow and white

Despite its exuberant hue and uselessness at Home Depot, Practical Man insisted the Bug was meant to be mine.  After all, he said, classic Beetles were among my favourite cars, daisies were my favourite flower and this BEETLE was yellow and white, LIKE A DAISY.

Then, he used the eyebrows on me.

I can’t resist the eyebrows.

You have to trust me:  these are magic eyebrows.

So, we bought the non-practical Beetle and I loved it with all my heart for nine summers.  I rejoiced every Spring on the first day of driving and I pouted a bit every fall, when it went away for the winter.  I drove it to work every day and I  never, ever took for granted a single moment of not just–finally, finally having my driver’s license back but, also, also–driving that car that made me and everyone around us smile.

Then, there was a fire in the winter storage building and what remained of the Beetle went off to be re-born as (hopefully) a Mini Cooper S…or something else fun.   Hey, that car did good deeds.  It didn’t deserve to morph into something that carries plywood.

Now, there is a new (old) car in town.  A 1970 Fiat 500.   We were busy re-building after the fire and then, there was a winter with higher snowbanks than two classic Fiats stacked on top of each other, and then some work to get it road-worthy, so tomorrow will be the Fiat’s first day being back on the road.

1970 Fiat 500, MGA etc.

Pretty girls all in a row

It’s tiny, tiny, oh-so-tiny.  Here it is, next to our (new) Fiat 500, which is a small (new) car but looks pretty large compared to the (old) original:

White 1970 Fiat, blue 2013 Fiat

 

It also looks diminutive next to its classic car counterparts.  So small, in fact, that it has an exterior luggage rack.  Yes, that’s because you can’t even fit luggage in the back, let alone a sheet of plywood.

1970 Fiat 500 from the back

This is how to make your Fiat 500 look big compared to a Land Rover

Not utilitarian in the least.

But, that Practical Man seems to have a broad definition of practical.

As in, if it makes my sweetheart full of tra-la-la, then it’s practical.

(Excuse me while I sniffle a little.)

So, the classic Fiat is here to stay.  It has a choke, a starter, no gas gauge or synchromeshing between gears, not even a radio.  It’s not utilitarian or sensible or large.

Off-white 1970 Fiat 500

Hedgehug

But, I have a feeling that, like my Beetle, this little Fiat will also hold a very large place in my heart.

Kind of like Practical Man.

Welcome, Hedgehug.

I can’t wait to get to know you better.


Copyright Christine Fader, 2014.  Did you enjoy this post from A Vintage Life?    
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You are reading a post from Christine Fader’s “A Vintage Life” blog.  Join the romance with all things retro at https://avintagelife.wordpress.com

If you know me or read this blog, you know I love my vintage vehicles but you might not know that:

a) daisies are my favourite flower and

b) as of November 24, 2012 my vintage vehicle collection stood at:

-1973 Volkswagen Super BeetleDaizybug at the end of a rainbow

– 1974 Boler travel trailer.

I drove my beetle, every day from May until October each year wearing a smile so big that my cheeks hurt.

Why the geeky glee?

I’ve been a fainter since age 18 and had my driver’s license revoked, um, a lot.  And you thought all my talk of swooning was just a mere vintage-y expression!

I was finally successfully treated 9 years ago and shortly thereafter, my husband found a yellow-and-white beetle and insisted that she was meant to be mine.  Often with tears in my eyes and a perhaps cheesy but ever so grateful swelling of my heart, Daizybug (her name seemed obvious) and I spent 9 happy summers together.

That is, until we had a little disaster on November 25.

Our workshop building–the building Daizybug slept in over the winter–burned down.  Luckily, the building was some distance from our house, there was no one inside, the wind was calm that day so our forest didn’t catch fire, no one was hurt, and it was just STUFF that was lost.   Yes, all those people who reminded me of those things were absolutely right.  There were lots of blessings for which to be thankful.

But sometimes, STUFF, even though it’s stuff, is very precious.   My Daizybug was dead and many, many tears ensued.

“But, it’s just a car”, you might be saying.

I know, I know.  Tell that to my heart.  It’s been very uncooperative in understanding that sensible fact.

Lots of soggy days and nights followed.   Everywhere I turned, there was Daizybug — yellow beetle cupcake holders in the baking cupboard; a planter painted like Daizybug; pictures in frames; handmade Daizybug jewellery crafted by my husband; Daizybug screen saver.  I had Daizy moments while driving (or hearing a certain song) and nightmares about her going to the dreaded crusher at the junkyard.

Soggy, soggy days and nights.

Lots of cute beetles are on the market and I had a small amount of insurance money with which to shop.  But, I just couldn’t find it in my heart to buy a Beetle.  In between bouts of soggy-ness, my husband reminded me (sometimes with tears in his own eyes), that even though we could never replace Daizybug, it would be nice to have someone to spend the first day of summer driving with, when it arrived.

On Saturday, we came home with a new friend.  And, even though there’s nothing like first car love…and I had a doozy in Daizy, this feels like the beginning of something different, of course, but just as strong.

fiat 500-ape 50- coriasco garage 121It’s a 1970 Fiat 500.  If it looks familiar, it might be because you remember Luigi from the movie Cars.  You may have also seen their new counterparts tootling around since they were re-designed and launched in the marketplace in the past couple of years.  The new ones are cute.

The originals are positively adorable.

This car has no radio or seatbelts (yet).  You have to start it using a choke and a starter lever.  There’s no synchro-meshing in the gears (meaning double clutching is required every time you accelerate or de-celerate).   It has a 2 cylinder, 499cc engine which, if you are not up on car vernacular, means it has (far) less power than the smallest modern-day motorcycle.

And I love it.

Of course, Daizybug will never be replaced or forgotten.  But every time I peek through the windows into our garage, I feel familiar tears in my eyes and a perhaps cheesy but ever so grateful swelling of my heart.