I've owned my 2002 Ford Mustang muscle car for over 10 years now. It's my baby that has treated me well probably because I have treated it well. There have been many passengers and many destinations. I left it here with CJ when I moved to New York City for a couple of years. The car was always ready, willing and able when I visited and returned.
I'm writing about my baby because it's just 60 miles shy of hitting the 200,000 mile mark on the odometer. Today, I might take it out for an errand, but I doubt that I will drive 60 miles. So the 200,000 mark will have to wait until Monday. I wonder if I will have a passenger. Who will be the lucky one to be with me when my baby reaches this milestone?
I'll keep those thoughts and dreams and wishful thinking to myself.
I actually don't need a passenger, though, to have the best experiences in my Mustang.
I've certainly received lots of thumbs up from people in other cars and even on bicycles. One time I got a free pass across the Bay Bridge because the car in front of me paid for my toll. I've never had that happen in any other car.
The best interaction I had was when I was leaving Jiffy Lube in Mountain View located on San Antonio Road. I was pulling out of there after getting my oil changed and tires rotated. These two men looked over at me, and one of them said something. I didn't hear what he said, and so he repeated it. "Isn't that too much car for you little girl?" He laughed. I laughed. Then he said that it was a beautiful car.
Oh I know not all experiences are positive ones. There was one time when I was in Daly City at the Target there doing some shopping. When I came out, I noticed that someone had keyed the hood of my car. I don't know what would possess someone to do something like that, but I always believe that what goes around comes around. It was a $300 repair.
Another time, someone attempted to break into my Mustang. This person must have been frustrated because his or her attempt at kicking my passenger door didn't work. I figured that this person was trying to steal an empty laptop bag in the back of my car. How did I know this person tried to kick the door? Because there was a shoe imprint on the door. It was the bottom of a shoe, and I could not figure out what the make of the shoe was for a long time until my friend Russell looked at it and said it was Reebok, imprinted backward. Ahhhhh.
CJ also has his own stories in that car I'm sure because he borrowed it quite a bit. There was one story that he tried to keep from me, but he should have known that I would find out sooner or later. It started when my sister Peach and I were leaving a luncheon at a Chinese restaurant in Santa Clara. I had parked my Mustang far away from other cars. As we approached it, I noticed that the scoop on the passenger side was damaged. We figured that there was no way the damage happened in that parking lot because there were no other cars around. We were puzzled.
When I got home, I noticed that there was a scrape on the side of the garage that I had not seen before. I inspected it and realized it was the same height as the damage on the scoop. Hmmmm. So I questioned CJ about it. He confessed that when he parked the Mustang one day, he hit the side ever so slightly and left minimal damage on the garage but a $300 oops on the scoop. CJ's lucky that he's my son because I would have sued him otherwise. He told me he didn't tell me sooner because he was afraid to since he knew how much I love that car.
And it's true. I love that car. I love how it looks and how fast it goes. I hate to drive the every day ho hum commute, but when it comes to passing up other cars and driving on freeways with barely any other cars around, I tend to speed. One of my favorite sporting events to watch is the Indianapolis 500, and I imagine I can take over the lead by cutting off the leader just at the right moment in Turn 4.
It's surprising too that in the more than 10 years I have owned the Mustang, I have been pulled over only once. The ticket was for speeding of course. I had driven to Grants Pass, Oregon to visit my friends Mary Jo and John and spend the weekend there before officially moving to New York City. On my way back from Grants Pass, as I was driving downward on Mt. Shasta, a California Highway Patrolman was waiting at the foot of the mountain, ready to issue the ticket. Apparently, that downward side of Shasta is a sweet spot for them.
I was guilty as charged and went on my speed limit way. About a year later, my tenant in Daly City forwarded mail to me that she said looked important and urgent. It turned out to be the ticket. I completely forgot about it, and the City of Redding had been trying to collect the fine on it for about a year. When they can't collect, they turn it over to the DMV, who suspended my license. I was unknowingly driving with a suspended license for awhile. Fortunately, I was able to fix everything over the phone, and my license was reinstated. That was about a $400 fine.
So good and bad, my Mustang has given me lots of memories. I wonder what else is in store after the 200,000 mile mark. I'm already labeled as Mustang Sally, Mustang Mama, and Mustang Baby by Mustang reputation, not by the other reputation. I love my Ford Mustang, and cheers to the next 200,000 miles!
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