Ode to my blue beetle

It all started with a crash. A car crash to be specific.  I was driving too fast down state street. My friend was a few cars in front of me and we were subtly trying to race to the texas roadhouse. She got ahead of me at a red light and i knew it was over, she’d won. I was paying attention to where her car was in traffic when i noticed something weird occurring. I was in the fast lane, a six lane road, and an ambulance without lights on was trying to make a right hand turn into my direction of traffic. Some idiot about six cars in front of me decided it was an appropriate time to slam on their breaks, regardless of the ambulance not entering this fast lane.  Well, six reaction times later and my slammed breaks barely kept me from colliding into the bumper in front of me, but i felt something else about to happen, and thats when the car behind me connected to mine. My head slammed into my seat. I weirdly expected this, and immediately had empathy for the car behind me. I was so close to that exact crash, they stood no real shot, a reaction time behind me. We moved over to the side street the ambulance had turned from, and some firefighters nearby came and checked on us while a cop from behind us made his way over. The poor girl who hit me looked 17 and it was clearly her parents car. We traded insurance info, no obvious injuries having happened, and i drove my totaled vehicle over to texas roadhouse for my friends free breadrolls. I knew already that my beat up old silver chrysler seabring was not worth repairing, a dented door would have totaled this thing and my entire trunk was crumpled, pieces of it dragging on the road. The only question was how much the poor hunk of scrap would be worth.

A month long concussion and countless insurance calls later, and i finally had the funds to get something new! The only problem was, i knew nothing about cars and had never had to buy one used. But i had three grand and a friend who knew her shit, so she helped me reach out to a couple of options via marketplace. She was a lowballing smooth talker with an understanding of engines and when we went to check out a 1998 volkswagon bug, her heart was set on it. I wasnt so sure. Somehow this car only had 130,000 miles on it, but it was a stick shift, and i didnt know how to drive one. Assuring me she could teach me, she got the price down to an incredible 1,200 and i simply had to seize the opportunity. The guy was honest about its issues. The car had some strange wiring, and had a faulty alarm that would go off when you unlocked it. The way to turn that off? Have the trunk open when you start the engine. Yeah, seriously. That was a fun one to explain to mechanics, i could always hear them laughing about it on the phone. It also had some old tubes and bad leaks, but nothing regular topping off couldnt fix. The stick shift was going out and the tires were balding, so i knew i had to sink more money into the car to even keep it for now, but thanks to my friend i had that option. This beetle, made the same year i was, became part of the family. 

Through my concussion i had been really depressed about switching from a beat up old silver car to another beat up old silver car, so i decided to use some of the extra money to paint it blue. Had i ever painted a car before? No. was that going to stop me? Of course not! First thing was first though, i had to learn how to drive stick. My friend turned out to be a great teacher, and i can say i was a good learner too. Fear of ruining the engine kept me from stalling it even once the first time i drove it. Slowly but surely i tackled shifting gears at stop signs, roundabouts, speedbumps, the freeway, and m y least favorite, hills. I missed being able to eat while driving, and sitting back on the freeway unworried about traffic. But i have to admit it was pretty fun getting the hang of shifting gears and speeding up in my small but mighty bug. Now that i could drive it, it was time to paint.

I researched. I asked questions. I gathered supplies, and i was ready to paint. At this point i lived in an apartment complex that was, well, not an upscale kind of place. So i figured i would just paint it in the parking lot. I needed an outlet for my power sander and my sprayer, and i parked in the back of the lot near one and got to sanding. If youve never painted a car before, the steps are basically these. Prep the car by treating rust spots, scraping paint bubbles, filling dents, and sanding the whole thing. Then you mask everything off and prime it or do the first coat of paint, depending on the products you use. Car paint has to be sprayed on so the metallic particles stand upright and give that signature shine. Its also a two part paint that acts similarly to epoxy. Combine a and b and work with it before it cures, then let it harden. Once thats complete the top coat can be added and the whole thing polished with a wet sand and buffing process. Well, i had everything sanded, everything masked, and it was after midnight. Still i kept going, the parking lot had a lot of light and i was pretty sure i wasnt supposed to be doing this there so i didnt mind the cover of night. Thats when the outlet stopped working. I have no idea what flipped it but the issue was there, i had to move the car. Carefully i creeped it over to the next outlet and remasked everything around the wheels that had come off before checking the outlet for power. You can guess, it didnt have power. The next nearest one that wasnt right by other cars was right next to the entrance of one of the units, which was a lot of attention, but i didnt have many options. Unfortunately, it was also super poorly lit, so i stopped for the night.

 The next morning i went out expecting trouble, but there was none. With a lot of remasking and further masking to save the road from paint i started painting. The spray only nature of the paint was stressful and i held my breath the entire time. After hours and several coats i had a pretty damn good looking blue car! Stoked on how it was turning out, i didnt pay enough attention to the clear coat and i got a very orange peeled final coat on it all. I tried my best to buff and polish the coat smooth but nothing i did helped. At this time in my life i happened to have a week long relationship with a guy who claimed he worked with cars a lot and could help me fix it. He made it so much worse at the front, taking the clear coat off entirely and leaving it like that. Also at one point during my buffing attempts the property manager approached me. I thought he was going to chew me out and maybe kick me out but he thought was i was doing was super cool and we became friends. After all that work im actually still proud of how it camer out. Is it perfect? No. was it cheaper than paying a pro? Ehh, pretty comparable. But did i love this car now? Absolutely! Its insane how much a little color changes things. This car went from a beat up junky silver car to my aesthetic baby blue beep beep bug. I got it in the summer of 2020, and im writing about it now, because its unfortunately on its death bed, making death rattlling heaves every use. 

It’s crazy to me how much i ended up loving this car, and what a loss this actually is for me now. This was my first car that was really my own. I bought it with issues, i repaired some and ignored others, and its the leak in the engine that seems to be the final nail in the coffin. When i reflect on my good times in it theyre all blasting my favorite music, sliding around corners, whipping it down the highway, decorating it with fresh flowers, keeping it clean, working multiple jobs with multiple outfit changes in the passenger seat, sitting in the drivers seat with my swimsuit soaking the seat under me after lifeguarding, spilling a frozen pina colada in my lap coming home from bartending, all the various paint colors on the stick shift from my various painting gigs. Its full of moments like those. And truly, i dont want to let it go. But everything has its time. Heres how i know its my beetles time. 

I know all the noises my car makes, as every driver does. When it started making a foreign noise a few months ago i had a gut feeling it was a bad one. When i brought it into a trusted mechanic shop, they told me not to bother fixing anything because of how bad the leaks in the engine were. So i didnt fix it, but i did keep driving it. Then i went to get an oil change. As i approached the manager came out from the building to tell me my car is making some concerning sounds. When they opened the hood another person came out from inside and all four mechanics were pointing out issue after issue under the hood. In the end they topped off my oil for free, i believe out of pity. Now, when i turn the key the engine sputters. And on top of all of that, the drivers side door cant close properly and has started swinging open while i drive. If i had all the money in the world id put it into this vehicle out of sentiment, but i dont. And its not reasonable to sink more than i can pay for a car in better condition into this car in such weirdly terrible condition. Another wiring flaw is that the trunk opens when i try to open the gas, and vice versa. Oh and the trunk doesnt stay open on its own, which makes it really hard to load things into it. Its running list of things to fix just to keep it functional has become too expensive to be practical, and its time to let go.

So heres my ode to my car. 

Oh you blue-est of beetles

I see you cough and wheeze

I cannot treat you darling, heres my hand

Lets just drive through these memories

From the one week boy to my forever man

You held my life passengers and i

With you i worked hard and played harder

Always driving slightly farther

Than i ever expected to

It started with the parking break

Then the trunk slamming closed

Your alarm going off in the home depot lot

The first and last time i locked the door

But do you remember the turkish towels

I used to cover the seats

How about the orange flower

In the flower holder, built in a different time

Back when machines were made to last

And cars didnt have screens

I appreciate the way youd use gas

So conservatively

None of this does you justice

My friend of three full years

I know you have to go now

I just keep shedding tears.

Im really not a poet. I dont know how to get the flavors of the past into my words. Ill just say the flavor of my car is sticky sweet, like melted ice cream on a summer day. I dont know whats next. But im grateful i for every experience i had in and with this car. And i know ill miss it dearly. Thats all for this one, ill see you next time friend.