Hail to The Heap
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The Heap and I, circa 1978, both in our youth. |
The car sputtered and jerked, and finally put itself out of
its misery with a giant belch out of the tailpipe. We rolled to a stop in front of the gate of a
sprawling, brick-walled estate.
“Now what am I going to do?” I bemoaned, with some choice
curse words thrown in. This was 1986,
and cell phones had yet to grace the planet, or at least my household.
I was going to have to hoof it. But it was really too far, and I wasn’t
wearing appropriate walking shoes, and I really, really didn’t want to cross that
big intersection. I was stuck here on
Strait Lane, home to mega-millionaires, the shortcut I used every day to
and from school.
My laziness and girl-panic about safety issues got the best
of me, and I decided to try and approach one of these castles to see if I could
use the phone to call my Dad. My Dad,
who bestowed upon me this massive hunk of junk, a gold 1976 Oldsmobile Cutlass
Supreme, that looked like it’d fit in better at the Boat Show than on a city
street.
He would not be happy with this latest development, as he’d
been nursing along “The Heap,” as it was so affectionately named, hoping to
prolong the inevitable expense of buying a new car. Dad preferred to call it, “The Bullet,” which
could only be in reference to the shape of the beast and certainly not
the speed or stealth.
I shoved open the massively long, heavy metal door of the
car and stepped out into the hot autumn day.
As I approached the expansive black iron gate of the estate, a sudden
realization hit me.
“Oh my God, this is Ross Perot’s house.”
I wanted to die. How
embarrassing to break down in front of a pseudo-famous, definitely not
pseudo-rich person’s house. I pushed the
buzzer at the gate, and a staff member was kind enough to let me use the phone
at the guard gate, and he even offered me a can of Pepsi Light while I waited
for my Dad to come pick me up.
All’s well that ends well, as that was the death of The
Heap, and we got a new car.
I learned a lot from that car, though, most importantly that a little humiliation is good for the soul. I worry about these kids today that don’t
suffer the embarrassment of driving around in a big, ugly car that’s had
more previous owners than candles on their birthday cake.
There is no car, in modern time, rivaling The Heap, and
others of its generation, in bulkiness, ugliness and sheer mass of shame. The days of the Pinto, Yugo and Gremlin are long
gone. Even the least expensive cars on
the market today aren’t nearly as obtrusive as the cars of the
past.
I can’t help but be concerned about the effect that all this
pretty-car driving is having on the next generation.
In eight years, when my daughter turns sixteen, I’m going to
comb every auto graveyard in town to hopefully find and resurrect The Heap.
Character building, my friends.

i hope you do find a heap for your daughter. i think you're right, we are making everything too pretty for our kids. they don't need designer clothes, new cars and fancy gadgets, they need to learn to appreciate the value of things and also how valuing things has nothing on valuing people. we've definitely lost our way.
ReplyDeleteWell, if I could find an ugly car that was reliable, that'd be the best of both worlds. Funny how back in the day safety didn't seem to be a concern, and now we are obsessed with it. I wonder if we are any better off.
DeleteI would like one of those heaps now...it would beat what I do drive.
ReplyDeleteI still have a special place in my heart for that car, even though it embarrassed me at the time.
DeleteTalk about a drive down memory lane -- I drove an Oldsmobile myself, while all my friends got sporty Acuras and Hondas while I drove the behemoth a.k.a. The White Racer.
ReplyDeleteGood luck finding a heap for your daughter. She won't appreciate it at the time, but looking back on it? She'll love it, at the very least appreciate it.
The White Racer...love hearing everyone's names for their cars!!
DeleteI love that this story involves Ross Perot and mentions Pintos and Gremlins.
ReplyDeleteMy daughter's first car was a Geo Metro that she named Eleanor Roosevelt. It got great gas mileage, but I always feared for her safety because those cars are super tiny.
True, those cars were so small, they look like rental roller skates...
DeleteGood luck in your Heap search!
ReplyDeleteI have hope that it's out there somewhere.
DeleteWhen I was *lucky* I got to drive our station wagon to school. When I was extra lucky, the Dodge Neon. I thought any car that someone in high school owned was the epitome of cool. In fact, the bigger the car, the more of us we could stuff in the back seat! (Safety was not our top concern...good thing things are different in that area now.) I didn't own a car until I was married and had a full time job. I spent a lot of time on the city bus. Do kids do that anymore?
ReplyDeleteI would have been stoked to get to ride in the Heap with you!
I do not know of any mother who lets her kid ride the city bus, oh the horrors! We are all safety-phobic, probably to our detriment.
DeleteCharacter building indeed! For three years in high school I drove my mom's big white mini-van to school. In some places, it wouldn't have been a big deal, but at my private school where my classmates were gifted shiny new SUVs and sassy little sports cars on their 16th birthdays, my Dodge Caravan was about a conspicuous as they come.
ReplyDeleteOoh, a Dodge Caravan, that is definitely a statement!!! At least you could cram a lot of friends in it.
DeleteThe detail in this story that made me smile was the can of Pepsi Light.
ReplyDeleteI sure do miss Pepsi Light with the little lemon on the can.
DeleteI must have some serious character (just like you) cause I drove a big ole Buick LeSabre heap all through high school. Now I think I was lucky to even have a car, but at the time I hated it. Can't wait to offer same opportunities to my girls! Wonderful writing as always!
ReplyDeleteThank you for the compliment! And my Dad drove a Buick LeSabre, at one point, that I narrowly escaped inheriting. Those were good cars.
DeleteOMG, I am DYING DYING DYING. First, I had a two toned 1978 cutlass supreme and it was called the DOOKIE. And the minute I saw Strait Lane I thought, "Ross Perot lives over there." Then BOOM! So Naturally I love this story so much. I suddenly feel totally homesick.
ReplyDeleteYou wouldn't be homesick if you could see how much Strait Lane has changed. Even Ross's house is so walled off you can't even get a glimpse of it.
DeleteI agree with this! I learned to drive in a minivan. 1) Very not cool. 2) Very dangerous to drive in the snow. It trained me & my ego well. And -- how hilarious that you were in front of Ross Perot's house!! Ha ha ha, of all the random things that could happen!
ReplyDeleteLearning to drive on a minivan would pretty much prepare you for anything in life, I imagine!
DeleteI am totally with you - I drove a powder blue Chrysler holiday - I am sure you don't even know what that is...But knowing how neurotic our generation of mothers are - we will be too worried about their safety to take off driving "heaps"
ReplyDeleteOH MY GOSH! My first car was the Blue Bomber, an Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme--DIESEL. My dad bought it new and I drove it til it died in 2000. I LOVED that car, and heap is such a great name. I once backed into a giant truck and there wasn't a scratch on my car, but I busted in the whole side of the truck. It was a tank. You've got me all waxing nostalgic. I love that you stopped at Ross Perot's house.
ReplyDeleteOooh, a gold Supreme! My grandparents had the maroon one (it did replace the gold barracuda though). I ended up with their chocolate brown Chrysler Lebaron and its presence on the college campus was humbling. My son turns 16 in two weeks. Do you think his choice of a 2004 minivan or a 2009 one is good/bad enough?
ReplyDeletep.s. I got caught up in the fond memories and neglected to mention that I loved this post!
DeleteMy first car was a 1989 Jeep Wagoneer that my Dad was in love with! A few months after I got my full driver's license, they bought me an awesome, but used, Jeep Cherokee that I LOVED. My Dad was more than happy to get his Wagoneer back. While I was sick of the constant breaking down and bulkiness of the vehicle, I secretly loved that car and was just as sad as my Dad when they, scratch that, my Mom finally decided to get rid of it.
ReplyDeleteI have always thought that Jeeps are the coolest cars!
DeleteMy kids are 8 & 5. As all things are cyclical, in fashion and hopefully car manufacturing, I'm hoping that the trend moves back to big hulking masses of metal, so that when they are old enough to drive, they will get a pure clunker. Good for the character, indeed!! Nice post.
ReplyDeleteThank you!
DeleteI couldn't agree more that our children are entitled. Working hard for material things and success is an important lesson. I drove an old station wagon when I got my license and currently our son is driving our 1995 station wagon. It is good for him. This is a relevant post.
ReplyDeleteThanks, I totally agree.
DeleteAbsolutely!!! You never know true embarrassment until you drive a piece of crap car. ;)
ReplyDeleteUntil that piece of crap car dies in front of Ross Perot's house.
DeleteMy first car was quite a heap as well. It's so true that those awful breakdowns and whatnot make for good stories and character building. Great story!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Michelle!
Delete'Sheer mass of shame' is a priceless line! I've been in quite a few of those.
ReplyDeleteWhat a story- going to the home of Ross Perot. I smiled at how nicely you were treated.
And I'm glad your daughter will have the privilege of character building bestowed upon her. Perfect!
Am hoping to resurrect the Heap for my daughter, but not holding much hope, considering it would be 45 years old by that time. But a girl can dream.
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