Christmas Cheer

Yes, it was Christmas time.  December and Hot in Sydney, when I decided that Yes, I would go with the suggestion to get a car.

After quite a few years practicing my ethical green standards with express concern for Sydney’s transport pollution, I was encouraged by a friend to ‘get some wheels’.  Yes, I would go with the suggestion to get a car.   

The small white Mazda 1300 was New to me.  It was waiting outside the workshop garage of a friend of the friend of mine; if I did not have my money with me, I may as well have had my money with me!  It was a ‘done deal’ before I spotted it from the street. I felt myself cringing in disappointed distaste, as I noted its dents—its age and its strange, humble, fiat-like style.  Its direction was ridiculously undecided—heading backwards?  Or heading forwards?  A feeling of immediate rejection by me!  In retrospect, Poor little car!

Pride and power of Ownership of my ‘new car’ as well as specific need, overcame some of my Sydney-style interest in style.  I did of course concentrate on my logical beliefs of what we now call ‘environmental sustainability’.   As for the ‘greenness’ of my ethics, I remain confident that my behaviour as a whole cancelled out my apparent hypocrisy; I honestly know that it was, not nor is it,  a case of ‘carbon trading’ hypocrisy!  Perhaps only peer group pressure, but my Mazda and I saw a lot of Sydney together, ‘and I’m grateful for that’! 

Shortly after the first day of collection, I drove the little item out to Dad, who commented on the wonderfully useful metal hooks, hidden under the front carriage, and I agreed— this admirably demonstrated /confirmed and indicated its having been manufactured in Japan—a package including function and quality—and this also confirmed my new friendships with both of Shoji and Akiko, strange as it may seem.  And now the car was headed to becoming a very true friend as well!  

Visiting from Brisbane, my young nephew James insisted that his BMX bike, YES, COULD be fitted into the back seat.  It was clear that we urgently needed  to get it to Centennial Park--without delay!

Earlier, sitting in the back seat, just behind my passenger friend Adnan Adhouidak, I could see in the mirror James’ small hand moving within an inch of Adnan’s beautiful ‘birds nest’ hair, I’m not sure if James was requesting--or surreptitiously trying--to ‘test’ the texture and the actual fact! 

I and my Mazda joined a convoy that summer—part of The Group’s plan to carry friends and food over to Nielson Park for an early l990’s day of laying under the trees, ‘talking and walking’,  playing in the water, eating and drinking, taking opportunity to experience the best of Sydney’s beauty.

In Bellevue Road one morning, I waited to pull out from the park space, dressed and ready to head for work, when I was greeted by a Mercedes driver with his question of, ‘Where’s your other car?’.  It was refreshing to note a lack of direct attack for my ‘confidence’ in BEING there, but I was feeling pretty snappy that day,  and I took  it as interesting to note that my car didn’t match! 

It was the Mazda which ended up as a love affair, and more importantly so than any boyfriend passenger.  Certainly they would not be allowed to drive it.  I DID unkindly subject it to a number of stressful trips on behalf of some unworthy weights!

In retrospect, I subjected my Mazda to one blind man, one ex-alcoholic and one passenger with no licence, or three such subjects if you count the first two!

Yes, my Mazda 1300 was arguably the best love affair!  Its comfortable black bucket seats, manual drive and heat-reflecting white duco were everything I wanted in a car.    It was a 1970 model, still working, for me,  and beautifully so at the age of nearly 20!

Memorably, its sturdy self drove me from the Eastern suburbs to the Campbelltown area, with NOT ENOUGH water in the radiator – because I believed the petrol station attendant, against my better judgment and experience of driving, and my already well proven knowledge of mechanics of cars.  I’d thought it strange that the fellow after pronouncing that this engine, being set parallel to axil rather than to the carriage (check terms, Cecile), this particular engine did not require the radiator to be topped up.  To check it would therefore be ridiculous!  HOW could I have believed this when I’d driven and maintained my Datsun 180B for at least eight hours each art school week, between and around Newcastle and Tamworth  for nearly four years?

I recall feeling embarrassed (for him) to consider that he could possibly believe such a story, if it were not true,  so it MUST be viable and true.  Events later in the day suggested that the best scenario was that the petrol attendant was fearful that I would ask him to fill the radiator himself.  He would need to take the cap off, check the water level, and return the cap!

So, off I went, and when my poor little car finally stopped, I had no idea that the burning western suburbs bush fires that day were so close by.  It was terribly hot, there was a strange heat in the air, the little car was showing HOT on the dashboard indicator, I was not near a petrol station, and I was far from either my own or my brother’s camps!  TROUBLE!

The off-duty policeman (I suspect at the insistence of his wife), stopped, and we managed to get the car out to my brother’s camp.  The fire on the horizon had finally explained the strong smell in the hot, heat-wave air, and the pair confirmed the truth.

In the following week, my dear brother located a replacement engine for the original cost of the car, and it served me well for many more trips all over Sydney and suburbs.

Regrets are a waste of time, but memory of my Mazda and of its sale, still moves me.  I saw it off to a capable young man who wanted to buy an honest, straightforward  car for his partner to drive to and fro from her job!  I believed him that he would be mechanically maintaining it.

Initial responses to my car were often similar to mine, and this was expressed verbally and often by the fellow I thought was my boyfriend over a number of years.  He was notably embarrassed to ride in it!  Shortly after its disappearance from my life, he expressed extreme surprise and annoyance and asked me WHY I’d sold it!