Monday, April 14, 2014


As far as material things go, I don't have a lot of what many would consider to be nice things. And I don't mean that in a self-depreciating way: my cars are old and my house is older, but I enjoy the things I have. So while no one is going to mistake a Fiero for a Ferrari, that's not the point. It's a fun car, despite being classic junk, and I enjoy it.

But when people driving Expeditions run stop signs, that has a way of rearranging things. While I've accepted that there's no point in trying to convince most people of how safe a Fiero actually is (they're built like butcher blocks, but everyone and their mother has a story about their brother whose sister's dad's cousin was killed because he rolled a Fiero while backing it out of the driveway), Jodi and I are fine. Despite seeing the Expedition's headlight in the vertical center of the passenger side window. So there's that.

The Fiero, on the other hand, isn't fine.

There's damaged to the passenger door, rear rocker panel, and the rear roof clip—which is the one piece which makes up the entire upper rear section of the body. While that doesn't look like much, there's damage to the passenger door metal, the chassis behind the rear quarter panel, and (I'm guessing) the right rear tie rod and right rear control arm, as the right rear tire is not exactly in alignment with the rest of the car.

It had to be ironic for the police officer who arrived on the scene to see the small sports car get hit in the side by the older lady driving the SUV. I would imagine that it's usually the other way around. Given the occurrence of a wreck, I always hoped it would be this way. And I always figured it would be this way. Any more, I am a slow, careful driver who feels like he's surrounded by fast, reckless drivers: people who treat yield signs as a challenge, stop signs as optional, and approach round-a-bouts as personal races to establish right-of-way. Sooner or later, this was going to happen. 

Unfortunately, 27 year old cars with 30,000 miles don't grow on trees. And T-top Fieros are pretty damn rare—there were less than 2,000 built. Add the mileage to the T-top rarity—and considering that I didn't have to fix a single thing to get the car running after I bought it—and this car is as close as I'm hoping to get to being a snob. Is it worth much? Not compared to most new cars. But does that mean I get to keep it nice? Apparently not...not without fixing it, anyway.

So now it's off to the shop with the spare keys and a flashlight. Hopefully it will be fixed entirely with the other driver's insurance company's money. And once that is done, hopefully there will be many more miles before the next hit. In the meantime, though, I think I'll continue stewing about SUV and new car drivers for a few more days.