Download & Print
January 26, 2023
A New Member of the Family
By Mikie Baker
The Bandera Prophet
And no, I’m not pregnant. I just need to update you on my car “situation.” Buck, my trusty Ford Escape companion for many years officially died on Election Day. I don’t know why, but somehow that day seems significant. Evidently, Buck couldn’t’ take anymore television ads. Actually, I felt his pain.
Let’s talk about my old friend for a minute. You know about cars. You’ve had your favorites. Of course, none of us can forget our first taste of freedom – whether you got your parents hand-me-down beast or you saved up money and bought your own, very used, taste of freedom. My first car was my mom’s ’65 1/2 Ford Mustang. A 16-year-old’s first taste of freedom was a car that could beat any jacked-up Cougar with Hooker Headers off the line anytime. I just had to push the accelerator and giggle.
I was always an Automobile Girl who wanted her car to be her identity. So, I had many vehicles that I took on as personal members of the family. There were the “salad days” complete with several Cadillacs. The second one was a diesel and that’s why Cadillac doesn’t make diesel cars to this day. Trust me. The Cadillac servicemen burned mine up.
But back to Buck. My car before was an American made car whose three greatest gifts to me were: a speedometer that didn’t work, an ignition system whose tumblers tumbled so I had to duct tape the key into the ignition, and a large 8-point buck that took my car out one night in November.
And that’s when I found Buck. A nice, used Edge with only 88,000 miles on it. Buck, named after the animal who killed the car that should have already been dead, and I went on many an adventure. I worked for Texas Public Radio (please donate today) and I was in charge of five of our seven stations. Buck and I drove to Llano, Marble Falls, Del Rio, Fredericksburg, Kerrville, San Antonio and most points in between. Buck and I agreed that the job required cruise control, so we cruised all over Texas.
When Buck hit 221,000 miles he decided he was done. Forever. Buck had nothing left to give.
When I went to clean out the “treasures” that still were inside Buck, we had a long conversation about how he had been my steady companion who drove me safely all over the Hill Country and how much I would miss my trusty steed. And then I introduced him to Bee, his replacement. Thankfully, Buck was okay with that.
So, let’s talk about Bee. She’s white like Buck, but she’s a fancy foreign job (okay a Mazda) and was formerly owned by My Crazy Cousin who is diabolically clean and organized. The inside of Bee looks like it is straight off the dealership floor, and she only has a few nicks and dents on the outside. I wish my body looked so good.
Why Bee? When we met MCC halfway between Dallas and Utopia in Lampasas, my cousin was wearing a cute, perfectly clean white shirt (how does a woman do that?) that had bees printed all over it. I decided when she cried and handed me the keys that my new/used car should be named Bee. Wish us luck as we form our new bond running around the hills.
Let’s talk about my old friend for a minute. You know about cars. You’ve had your favorites. Of course, none of us can forget our first taste of freedom – whether you got your parents hand-me-down beast or you saved up money and bought your own, very used, taste of freedom. My first car was my mom’s ’65 1/2 Ford Mustang. A 16-year-old’s first taste of freedom was a car that could beat any jacked-up Cougar with Hooker Headers off the line anytime. I just had to push the accelerator and giggle.
I was always an Automobile Girl who wanted her car to be her identity. So, I had many vehicles that I took on as personal members of the family. There were the “salad days” complete with several Cadillacs. The second one was a diesel and that’s why Cadillac doesn’t make diesel cars to this day. Trust me. The Cadillac servicemen burned mine up.
But back to Buck. My car before was an American made car whose three greatest gifts to me were: a speedometer that didn’t work, an ignition system whose tumblers tumbled so I had to duct tape the key into the ignition, and a large 8-point buck that took my car out one night in November.
And that’s when I found Buck. A nice, used Edge with only 88,000 miles on it. Buck, named after the animal who killed the car that should have already been dead, and I went on many an adventure. I worked for Texas Public Radio (please donate today) and I was in charge of five of our seven stations. Buck and I drove to Llano, Marble Falls, Del Rio, Fredericksburg, Kerrville, San Antonio and most points in between. Buck and I agreed that the job required cruise control, so we cruised all over Texas.
When Buck hit 221,000 miles he decided he was done. Forever. Buck had nothing left to give.
When I went to clean out the “treasures” that still were inside Buck, we had a long conversation about how he had been my steady companion who drove me safely all over the Hill Country and how much I would miss my trusty steed. And then I introduced him to Bee, his replacement. Thankfully, Buck was okay with that.
So, let’s talk about Bee. She’s white like Buck, but she’s a fancy foreign job (okay a Mazda) and was formerly owned by My Crazy Cousin who is diabolically clean and organized. The inside of Bee looks like it is straight off the dealership floor, and she only has a few nicks and dents on the outside. I wish my body looked so good.
Why Bee? When we met MCC halfway between Dallas and Utopia in Lampasas, my cousin was wearing a cute, perfectly clean white shirt (how does a woman do that?) that had bees printed all over it. I decided when she cried and handed me the keys that my new/used car should be named Bee. Wish us luck as we form our new bond running around the hills.