Wednesday, Sept. 4
It doesn't really seem appropriate to brag about my new car at present, considering Typhoon 16 is on its way to Japan.
If she batters my helpless little island, my car, a 4 door hatchback weighing at best 100 lbs, will stand no chance. But if devastation is the car's fate, then
surely she deserves some praise before she passes into midget car heaven.
I bought the 1994 Toyota Starlet Soleil yesterday, after over a month in Japan using trains and my bicycle, which, though old and painful to ride, the steel basket on the handlebars has a certain redeeming quality.
The purchase was made from a one Tominaga-san, a local mechanic renown the town over. In a sea of beat-up metallic junk, Tominaga found me a pearl. The Japanese gem has only 48,000 km, gets at least 40 miles to the gallon, has 70 horsepower, and of course, gets the ladies.
You may say, but's is it a convertible? or even a sports car? And though my reply will be a resounding no, there is something about the car that drastically increases my machismo.
On my way back from Uwajima last night, one of my friends, Verity, aghast at the car's shocking beauty, said, "Nice car." Even the car itself seemed to blush through its silver hue. And at the gym tonight, a stranger came up to me and cried, "You're in my way! Please move your car!"
It just has its way of making people notice.
Best of all, for the car and the fame that naturally came with it, I had only to part with $1500. Not a bad price for popularity and prestige.
In Japan, it seems, no one wanted this car because it is too cool. Tominaga, I am sure, knew that I could handle the press coverage and the swarming groupies which surround it 24 hours a day, like the paparrazzi in Europe. Someone told me today that my haircut was like David Beckham's, so perhaps
Tominaga took that into consideration. Whatever the error in his judgment, the car is mine, all mine, and there's nothing anyone can do about it.
But like any great thing, and cars especially, it must be named. Napoleon was the first thing that came to mind, then Rudy, but then I thought to myself, "Wait a minute...the car may be diminutive, but it doesn't drive as such nor appear as such to the untrained eye. It defies reality.
So perhaps Houdini or something to that effect.
Of course, a name is but a name, and fame is often fleeting, and so I know, that despite my good fortune, all of this could come to crashing end. And no, I am not speaking of a major fender bender. Typhoon 16 is on its way.
