Clemetine

In my time I've driven a 57 Chevy Two Ten, a 67 Pontiac Catalina, a 1979
Chrysler LeBaron, a 1979 Chevy Impala, 1985 Buick LeSabre. Next to the 1957
Chevy known as PJ, I was very fond of the 1967 Pontiac known a Clementine.

My father bought Clementine in 1971. In a former life she had been a deputy
sheriff's car. She was the family car until 1976 when she quit in the
middle of town. There was water in the oil and my father fearing he had
put a rod through the block bought another car, a 1974 Pontiac. The
salesman wouldn't give anything in trade on Clementine so my father towed
her to his brother's house. Later he towed her the 40 miles home and parked
her in the "bone pile". She rested there until my sister and I were in
college. After hauling me home after my first year of college my father
decided that my sister and I could haul ourselves in the 74 Pontiac and he
would resurrect Clementine as the family car. When he tore into her he
discovered that the water in the oil was the result of a crack in the cover
of the water pump not the rod through the block he had feared. He fixed the
problem and Clementine was the family car until my second year at the
university. My father had hauled me down and back my first year. When it
was time to leave for the second year he handed me the keys and told me to
take myself. I drove her until I bought the 1979 Chrysler my second year of
graduate school,

She quit me once at the Flying J in Snowville UT. Luckily my cousin lived
down the block and her husband gave me a jump and I drove the remaining 50
miles to the ranch. The voltage regulator has quit working. My most
frustrating mechanical adventure involved changing the oil. My father had
told me the change the oil and given instructions on how to proceed. I
gathered what I needed, borrowed my sister's tools and proceeded to change
the oil. All went well until I tried to remove the old filter. I couldn't
unscrew the old filter. I had a filter wrench and still couldn't get it
undone. I went in search of masculine help. The university I attended was
a private religious institution that was long on girls and short on men with
any mechanical know-how. I couldn't find a man strong enough to get the
filter off. In frustration I called home to consult. My sisters happened
to be at the ranch that weekend so my father sent me his filter wrench with
them.

Monday I called Justin, a farm boy we knew. Justin had dated our cousin
Laura. Our folks knew his folks. Justin would drop by our apartment from
time to time when he wanted to visit with home folks and we invited him to
dinner a few times. Justin was glad to help and I am happy to report that
he made short work of the stubborn oil filter.

After I bought the Chrysler my younger brothers drove Clementine to high
school. Being teenagers they usually drove at sub warp speed. One morning
they hit a deer which caved in the front fender. When he arrived at school
my brother took it to the high school shop. He pounded out the dent during
shop class that day and Clementine was none the worse for wear. There
something to be said for making cars out of steel.

The transmission gave out so today Clementine rests in my father's bone pile
awaiting another resurrection. If he runs across another transmission he
just might.