More car stories...
After Roy's unexpected exit, I needed wheels. I'd moved to a more urban area and was commuting to school. Enter Maceo, another gift from my parents.
Maceo belonged to our neighbors who had stopped driving. He was an Oldsmobile Delmont 88 (bottom of the line). His interior matched the shade of turquoise Sobranie Cocktail cigarettes that I would save just to smoke while driving. Faithful steed for several years, he eventually got very slooow. I cleaned his spark plugs a lot. He took about 15 minutes to warm up in the morning. Poor baby.
Then Pop got ideas about cars again.
He loved to be the provider of cars. And no car went to waste, so when he decided that my sister-in-law needed a Volvo in order to protect herself and our newest family member, the Great Swap began. Maceo went to my sister. Sister-in-law's Honda wagon went to me and the new used Volvo went to her. She didn't really have a choice in the matter.
Two weeks later I got the call: "Do you mind swapping back? I don't really like the Volvo."
What could I say? It didn't seem like the swap had been fair to her, so I took the Volvo.
I hated him too. I literally did not have the upper body strength to park him. He was a money pit.
He did not get a name.