Let me just start by saying that everything embarrassed me when I was 17. Especially dorky cars. And the only car that was available for me to drive out in Colorado belonged to my aunt. Even though it was a new model and actually very nice, I was still mortified to drive it.
It was a yellow VW mini bus. Back then they weren't called mini vans. I think they were called
It's actually funny because my boyfriend at the time drove a red VW bug - like one of the older models, and that didn't embarrass me at all. I loved that car. Except when it caught on fire when we were on the highway one day. If I remember correctly, we had to brave the flames to grab a bottle of alcohol out of the glove compartment so we didn't get caught with it. It was definitely embarrassing when the tow truck dropped us off at our destination (a wedding) with a smoking charred VW hooked up to the back of it though.
Where I lived in CO, it seemed like everyone was loaded - kids my age had awesome cars, and they all drove to school. The school parking lot looked like a new car dealership. Make that a high end new car dealership. I took the bus. Then this girl I met my first week there took pity on me and started picking me up every day in her huge shiny Bronco. Seriously, I'm pretty sure the brand new Bronco was nicer than any car that any kid I knew back home had.
Now that I think of it, the bright yellow VW bus was a huge step up from anything I was allowed to drive back home. Back home, we used to drive two cars as teenagers - one we named the Crud Mobile, and the other was affectionately called The Manila Envelope. The crud mobile was this massive white car that my dad let us drive. It was so deeply embedded in the mortifying category that nothing could pull it out. The crud mobile was so wide that it took up an entire lane. Seriously. The entire lane. I am actually positive that car would not fit in my current two car garage. The interior was huge and fit a crap load of kids. And the upholstered ceiling was coming down, so as you were driving, you were paying less attention to keeping the car on the road and more attention to swatting the upholstery out of your face.
The Manila Envelope was another of my dad's extra large cars that he let us drive. Again with the massive wideness. Except this one was a subtle Manila Envelope-type of color. Pretty tough to slyly show up somewhere in that ride. Typically, we would park about a block away from wherever it was that we were going because we were so embarrassed. Ah. Good times.
I do have great memories of driving around in those cars though. Even though they were bigger than a swimming pool, I still had some sense that I was lucky to have wheels, because not everybody did. We lived in the country, so besides going anywhere within walking distance, we needed a ride.
I cannot even imagine my kids faces if I pulled up to pick them up from school in one of those cars. Anybody have an old crappy Impala that I can borrow?
Nothing like embarrassing rides to dredge up a good story. My dad had a refrigerated van that he used for his diner when we were kids. Once he drove my sister and I to school in it. He thought it was cool -- vans were "hot" at the time, but not ones with refrigeration units on top. My sister asked to be let off about two blocks before the school. I stayed in until we got there.
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