My first car is a bit of a sore spot for me. It was a 1996 Dodge Caravan, and because we were a family of diehard Packers fans, it was green with gold trim. It was about three years old when I got it and in high school, even though I was driving a green minivan, I thought I was the coolest guy in the world. My friends and the other kids at school though — they did not. My van was given the nickname The Green Monster, though I preferred the Millennium Falcon.
As I recall I used that car through three girlfriends, four years of high school and more late night trips to Taco Bell than I care to remember. We took the seats out once to move something for a relative and they never ended up going back in. As a result, the Big Green Falcon became an easy way to smuggle kids into sporting events and out of class.
Shortly after finishing high school, the brakes started to make noise, and in my infinite I know everything..I just graduated wisdom — I didn’t do anything about it. I payed the price one day when the brakes just gave out and I went right into a car parked on the street…in front of a massage parlor. The owner, who was in the middle of a massage came out and as you can expect, he wasn’t that happy with this punk kid who just did major damage to his POS. The van ended up getting sold for parts, or traded in for parts..I didn’t want to concern myself with the specifics.
I still miss that van, and in fact still have the hood ornament in a box somewhere.
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