This month I was published in PLATES, the magazine of the Automobile License Plate Collectors Association. It is my 5th article for the publication. I started my collection in the mid-80s, at about age 9. I got into them because I just liked them, and they were part of a broader interest in the different states of the US.
Back then I did not keep any records. When I got a plate, I proudly attached it to my bedroom wall. I had a few hundred by 1988. I joined ALPCA in '86, and ended my membership in '92, as I was ending high school. The collection went dormant until 2006, when I joined back in with gusto and quickly added onto my collection.
From those early days, I thankfully did keep letters from other collectors and correspondence with those who I bought plates from via the classified ads in the newsletter (not yet called PLATES, and all black and white, in contrast to the glossy, full color majesty of today). This was an era before electronic correspondence, of course, so established collectors actually contacted new collectors by snail mail. I had people from all over the country write to me, and even some from overseas. Many of them were interested to find out my young age; then (as is now), collectors who are children are quite rare. Some had amusing stories, and some passed on some free plates to me to help me jump start my collection. I never forgot this kindness.
For the article "A Boy in ALPCA," subsequently titled "Paying It Forward" by the editor, I pulled together this
correspondence and a few pictures. The biggest picture used is myself on my 10th birthday, blowing out the candles on my license plate birthday cake (the sun graphic design, still one of my all-time favorites). My mother made the cake. Another picture has me and my brother Matt in front of the Washington Monument in '87, with me wearing an ALPCA t-shirt, and my brother an entertaining grin on his face.
This summer in Charleston, West Virginia, I met 2 collectors on the Riverboat Cruise whose letters from long ago are featured in the article. One is a gentleman from Vermont who wrote me a refund check for $1 which I never cashed. The other man is from Iowa; we completed some kind of trade which landed me an Iowa plate from my birth year. It was an honor to meet both of them.
If not for the great hospitality shown to me in the early days by such collectors, I might never have pursued the hobby further. For that I am very grateful, and the article is a tender tribute to them and to family or anyone else who helped me get started.
Trail Kid
1979 and age 4, give or take a year
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Out with the old, in with the new
Today I bought a new (used) car.
R.I.P., '97 Ford Escort.
My friends on Facebook probably know what I'm talking about, as I've turned the saga into a recurring soap opera. I bought it used in 2002 for $5,500 in full straight out the lot. (Ah, those were the days. I actually had MORE money). Had 75K on it when I bought it, and now it has about 192K. No one thought it'd last even this long. Even my mechanic said he'd never seen one go so high, so were in "uncharted territory."
I had normal maintenance and repairs on it until this summer, when the check engine light came on, disappeared and reappeared between repairs. New spark plugs didn't fix it. Nor the thingy the spark plugs plug into. Nor the alternator, which was in need of replacing anyway. Just for fun, the battery also began dying during this time. In one month's time I poured in nearly a grand, all for about 3-4 weeks worth of driving. Because it came back, and then it was finally diagnosed as a sticking valve. Read: a rather simple-looking problem that is in fact a nightmare to fix and not at worth a fix on a car such as that one.
I wanted it to hold out to 200K, or at least Christmas, but the chocking engine which had previously reared its ugly head primarily during startup began happening at other, random times.
When the 9-year-old said "it's time to let it go," I knew there was some wisdom in that small body. And of course, every adult I talked to agreed. No one could believe I made it as far as I did.
So it was this weekend that, spurred on by an email from Patelco Credit Union, I attended a used car shindig in Pleasanton. I was disappointed quickly--there were no cars under 13 grand. It was windy and lurking with young men who just as easily looked the part of a fundraising car wash team. I left.
On North Main St., close to my work and my home, there are a number of used car lots, so I just started going to them one by one. At Michael Stead Jeep/Dodge/Chrysler, I stopped in expecting to find nothing since none of those models were on my list. Lo and behold, there was a pretty little 2007 Honda Civic Hybrid in teal (though to me it appears more like a "frosty blue") at a fair price.
About 3 hours later, I was the new owner.
This is somewhat an act of faith. I realize that sounds like a horrible thing to say when buying any car, let alone one that's above your price range, but here I am.
Its a beautiful car. Clean as a whistle. 44K miles. And so quiet I can't get over it.
The hard part, of course, is paying for it. There's going to have to be sacrifices on my part (no more eating out everyday for lunch, for starters), and I might have to re-broach the idea of a parental loan. But the monthly payment seems doable, and I am willing to sacrifice for this sweet gem. I feel as if I'm entering a marriage: "for better or worse, 'til death do us part..." Among the more obvious sacrifices is to go a year without buying license plates. Well, almost. Late June is the annual convention in Des Moines, IA.
This was the year of spending. New furniture, new rat cage, a dental something-or-other, a laptop, 2 extra vacations, a silly toy, and now a car. Please let 2012 be the year of saving.
I feel so happy about this new car. But I also feel very sad about the Escort. I feel bad that it's just sitting there in the dark, wondering why the hell I stripped it of its plates and left it there. I think it wanted to go further for me. It served me well for 8 years, even if the dome light wouldn't work, even if it had crank windows, even if it had this engine trouble at the most inopportune time (a month after I paid for a smog check and registration and the battery--really??). It put up with some rough treatment (sweaty after basketball games, kids, food/drink spills, a doxie, etc.).
So, Honda (I refuse to name my cars, sorry), I do pledge to take great care of you, to be gentle with you, and
give you regular baths. In return, please last for many Christmases to follow...
R.I.P., '97 Ford Escort.
My friends on Facebook probably know what I'm talking about, as I've turned the saga into a recurring soap opera. I bought it used in 2002 for $5,500 in full straight out the lot. (Ah, those were the days. I actually had MORE money). Had 75K on it when I bought it, and now it has about 192K. No one thought it'd last even this long. Even my mechanic said he'd never seen one go so high, so were in "uncharted territory."
I had normal maintenance and repairs on it until this summer, when the check engine light came on, disappeared and reappeared between repairs. New spark plugs didn't fix it. Nor the thingy the spark plugs plug into. Nor the alternator, which was in need of replacing anyway. Just for fun, the battery also began dying during this time. In one month's time I poured in nearly a grand, all for about 3-4 weeks worth of driving. Because it came back, and then it was finally diagnosed as a sticking valve. Read: a rather simple-looking problem that is in fact a nightmare to fix and not at worth a fix on a car such as that one.
I wanted it to hold out to 200K, or at least Christmas, but the chocking engine which had previously reared its ugly head primarily during startup began happening at other, random times.
When the 9-year-old said "it's time to let it go," I knew there was some wisdom in that small body. And of course, every adult I talked to agreed. No one could believe I made it as far as I did.
So it was this weekend that, spurred on by an email from Patelco Credit Union, I attended a used car shindig in Pleasanton. I was disappointed quickly--there were no cars under 13 grand. It was windy and lurking with young men who just as easily looked the part of a fundraising car wash team. I left.
On North Main St., close to my work and my home, there are a number of used car lots, so I just started going to them one by one. At Michael Stead Jeep/Dodge/Chrysler, I stopped in expecting to find nothing since none of those models were on my list. Lo and behold, there was a pretty little 2007 Honda Civic Hybrid in teal (though to me it appears more like a "frosty blue") at a fair price.
About 3 hours later, I was the new owner.
This is somewhat an act of faith. I realize that sounds like a horrible thing to say when buying any car, let alone one that's above your price range, but here I am.
Its a beautiful car. Clean as a whistle. 44K miles. And so quiet I can't get over it.
The hard part, of course, is paying for it. There's going to have to be sacrifices on my part (no more eating out everyday for lunch, for starters), and I might have to re-broach the idea of a parental loan. But the monthly payment seems doable, and I am willing to sacrifice for this sweet gem. I feel as if I'm entering a marriage: "for better or worse, 'til death do us part..." Among the more obvious sacrifices is to go a year without buying license plates. Well, almost. Late June is the annual convention in Des Moines, IA.
This was the year of spending. New furniture, new rat cage, a dental something-or-other, a laptop, 2 extra vacations, a silly toy, and now a car. Please let 2012 be the year of saving.
I feel so happy about this new car. But I also feel very sad about the Escort. I feel bad that it's just sitting there in the dark, wondering why the hell I stripped it of its plates and left it there. I think it wanted to go further for me. It served me well for 8 years, even if the dome light wouldn't work, even if it had crank windows, even if it had this engine trouble at the most inopportune time (a month after I paid for a smog check and registration and the battery--really??). It put up with some rough treatment (sweaty after basketball games, kids, food/drink spills, a doxie, etc.).
So, Honda (I refuse to name my cars, sorry), I do pledge to take great care of you, to be gentle with you, and
give you regular baths. In return, please last for many Christmases to follow...
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