Stella

       My vehicle has had quite the history in its short life. My dad bought this dark green 1998 Ford Mustang convertible when it was new in 1998 for my mother for their fifteenth wedding anniversary. When my brother turned fifteen in 2002, he received the ‘Stang as his first car. In 2003, my brother and uncle traded cars, with my uncle receiving the convertible until he blew out the engine in 2005. In April of 2006, I had just turned fourteen and therefore had just gotten my learner’s permit, allowing me to drive anywhere as long as an adult was in the car. My parents surprised me by fixing up the vehicle and giving it to me as my first car ever. Of course in their eyes, it wasn’t my car officially until I could legally drive it myself, but in my eyes, it was all mine already. I’ve had that car now, which I named Stella after the first time I drove her, since that fateful day in April 2006 and she has been a pleasure to drive.

       I’ll start with the exterior. Dark green with a high shine, no matter what the weather, Stella is always glimmering. The top is a light brown saddle color that retracts to open up to the outside. This is by far my favorite feature of the car. As a fan of the outdoors, riding around in the summer with the top down is always one of those little things I look forward to throughout the year. Stella is definitely a summer car.

       The interior of the car is made in standard Ford Mustang fashion: 150 horsepower engine, leather seats, two-door, four-seat, black dashboard, brown console and brown foot rugs. However, Stella is like my second room. Everyone’s rooms are personalized to fit who they are and what they like. The same can be said for Stella; the items I have in my car help to add some personality.

       One advantage of having one car for nearly six years is the amount of memorable things that I rediscover within the two doors. This is what I find in my car... 

       On the driver’s side, I see sunflower seeds next to the right hip between the seat belt and middle console. A full, warm, year-old water bottle sits right next to the seeds. Hanging on my mirror are a variety of items from events of my past. There is an elastic eye patch from our pirate-themed homecoming junior year; a headband I wore during state tennis my sophomore year; a scented necklace made out of Lebanese cedar trees  that my Grandma brought back for me two summers ago; a miniature Star Wars action figure hanging from the eye patch; a stretchy giraffe pinned between the mirror and windshield; and at least six scented car fresheners that have accumulated over the years and needless to say do not serve any purpose anymore. 

       The floor of the passenger seat is surprising clean, probably because I throw any trash or clothes immediately into the back seats, where I now look. On these pair of seats, I find a pair of sweatpants, three loose burnt CD’s, my CD case, the first season of Entourage (I was looking for that!), a bag of McDonald’s trash, my camera tripod, and twenty-two cents. On the floor, there is a collection of water bottles that has now probably reached the low twenties, some empty, some not. Obviously I don’t clean any of this out, because it would take away from Stella’s character.

       There is a space between the back seats and the trunk into which the top reclines that is consistently filled with water from a hole in the top. Fortunately, this rarely leaks into the trunk, which I usually keep tidy in order to fit everything I need. Here, I find a blanket, a towel, a sweatshirt, a giant bag of assorted candy, a pair of socks, my tennis shoes, my tennis bag, my golf bag, my golf shoes, four loose tennis balls, a lug wrench, a jack, and underneath the carpet and cardboard, a spare tire. At this point, you’re probably thinking, “Now Brandon, Mustangs are not that big. How in the world do you fit all of that in your trunk?” Well, curious young readers, if you’ve ever played a game of Tetris, it goes a bit like that; everything must go in a certain place for it all to fit. And because I never know when I’ll be playing golf or tennis or changing a tire or just have a craving for some delicious candy, it all must fit. 

       Every person and his/her car have a relationship. Some, like newlyweds, are excited about the adventures ahead and interested to see what more there is to learn. Others, like seventy-years-married-still-in-love old couples, have a hard time parting with their first true car love. Even others, like the disgruntled middle-aged couple who got married too soon, just want out and are tired of the same old ride over and over again. Stella and me? Well, after six years, I can truly say I am still happy with my first car. We’re like those high school sweethearts that actually worked out. I am leaving for Italy in January and won’t be back until May. It’ll be a record time away from my car. In the meantime, there is a definite possibility my mom will discover that sweet feeling when she rides with the top down on a warm, sunny day, and I’ll come back and discover Stella’s been renamed Francisco and is now in her possession full-time. It’d take me awhile to bring Stella back to her old self, but as we saw from those old people in The Notebook, love will always bring you back, and we’d be reunited at last.