The Car Curse

by Janis Patterson

It doesn’t matter how good a car you have, or how well you maintain it, you are going to have car trouble, and usually at the worst possible moment. Both The Husband and I are absolute maniacs on keeping our cars in the best possible condition, believing that it is easier and cheaper to do good maintenance than to fix problems caused by neglect. In spite of everything, though, cars will maniacally develop problems, and always when you need it the most.

This week at a simply gosh-awful early hour I drove an elderly friend of mine to have a cataract operation. My pampered and petted car started fine, but immediately showed that I had a low tire - the right rear. As there was no time to look for that fast-becoming-extinct institution the full-serve gas station (and do I miss them!) I simply started driving. Our cars have special run-flat tires and on visual inspection the tire looked just like its fellows, so I picked up my friend and off we went - slowly, as you aren’t supposed to go over 40 on a low run-flat - and got to the surgical center in plenty of time. As soon as she went into surgery - where I knew by experience it would be at least two to three hours before I could take her home - I asked the staff if there were a tire shop around. No one knew of one.

God bless Google! I got on my phone and searched and found three tire companies within two miles of the surgical center. I chose the one with the most good reviews and off I went - slowly. I’m glad the place had so many good reviews, because it certainly was unprepossessing to look at and without the reviews I probably would not have stopped there. I’m glad I did, though, because the man there was so kind - he not only put air in my tire, he checked all four tires and even put the car up a little so he could be sure that no tire had any kind of puncture. And - they even did state inspections, which I had been trying to fit into my schedule for almost a month! Total cost? $25. That unattractive little shop is many miles from my home, but I really intend to go back there next year for the inspection.

There are a couple of neat little wholesome lessons in this rather drab little tale - sometimes unexpected things happen no matter how well you prepare, and sometimes appearances really don’t count. I wish I could remember that.

Addendum :

After I finished this blog post, the Car Gremlins showed that they weren’t finished with us yet. Our house is very unusual; we have a large parking area in the back, but it can be accessed only through a long, narrow drive to the street through which, because we have several vehicles, we must back if we want to get out. The Husband leaves earliest and arrives back latest (I work from home) so his car is almost always on the outside of the queue. He parks in the driveway itself, where there is more cover from the depredations of birds. Yes, he pampers and pets that car even more than our beloved dog. We won’t talk about my place in the pecking order!

The other night we decided that I should run to our local Whataburger (best burgers in the world!) and pick up supper as I was too wiped too cook and The Husband had a headache. I go outside and as I always do when I drive his car move back the seat (he won’t drive unless his knees are halfway under his chin like a cricket’s) put the electronic key in its slot and suddenly the car goes crazy. There is a loud ticking from the trunk, all the running lights and some on the dashboard start to flash and I can neither get the car to start nor remove the key.

Of course, being a rather melodramatically-minded mystery writer, my first thought was ‘someone’s put a bomb in the car!’ The Husband, after I had quit screaming, poo-pooed the idea, but he couldn’t do any more to make the car behave than I could. After a long and hamburger-less night (we ended up eating frozen pizza) we called the service number at our dealership and they immediately sent out a tow truck. I had been fearful about how they would tow it, as our cars tow only from the front and the back was sticking out to the street with less than two feet clearance on either side.

However – the tow truck driver was a kind and knowledgeable man. He didn’t laugh at me and said all we had was a dead battery. I did know, having driven clunkers for many of my poor years, that batteries could fail in a single heartbeat (though usually not so spectacularly), but The Husband was skeptical that such a thing could happen to his pampered baby – until the driver started the car with a single jump and was able to drive it up on the flatbed tow truck with almost insulting ease.

As the tow truck drove away I could swear that our car was sniggering at us. The Car Curse rolls on, but the good news is we only have one vehicle – a close to 25 year old pick-up truck with almost 200,000 miles on it – left to go. However… it will probably outlast all of us.

What does your main character's ride say about him or her?

Face it, America is car happy. The car we drive is part of our image. The first impression is often made by what we show up in. So it is with the characters in our stories, especially our main characters.

In the real world, a detective's ride should be economical and dependable, It should have plenty of power for fast getaways or chases. It should be able to turn on a dime to counter the evasive action of a fleeing suspect. It should have a cargo area for the detective's gear and change of clothing. It should have room for the detective and a sidekick to endure a long stakeout. Finally it should be so nondescript as to blend into the surroundings for moving or stationary surveillance. In other words, the ideal detective's ride is like a good pair of mommy jeans—roomy, serviceable and boring. A Ford or Volvo station wagon would fit the bill.

Fictional detectives don't wear mommy jeans and they don't drive Volvos, at least not Volvo station wagons. Here are some fictional detectives and their rides.

This first category shouts, “I've got more money than sense.” Amos Burke. LA Chief of Detectives arrived at crime scenes in his chauffeured Rolls Royce. We liked tis guy back in the sixties, but now we know he had to have been on the take to afford those wheels.
Jonathan and Jennifer Hart likewise did their detecting from the back of a Rolls Royce Corniche. For comfortable stakeouts there's nothing better if you don't mind being made right away. Pardon me, scumbag, do you have any Grey Poupon?

The "Mine's bigger than yours" department. How do you spot a two-fisted shamus? He's the wise-cracking guy in the loud sport coat driving some badass Detroit iron.
There's Bullitt tearing through the streets of San Francisco in his "Highland Green" 1968 Ford Mustang 390 CID Fastback, in the car chase of car chases.

Hardboiled PI, Joe Mannix favored convertible models that included an Olds Toronado, a Dodge Dart and a '70 Barracuda.

Nash Bridges also liked that '70 Cuda, maybe because the color matched his jacket. Less than 300 '70 Cuda convertibles were made, so if you spot one of these in your rearview, pull over and spread 'em.

Tough guy Spenser chased the bad guys in his muscular '66 Mustang fastback on TV.
A.J. Simon, of Simon and Simon, tooled around San Diego in his Camaro IROC Z, a car that, according to A.J., attracted more women than a shoe sale. Other than a Toby Keith concert, just where would an IROC blend in?

An extra shot of testosterone. Crockett and Tubbs cleaned up Miami in their Ferrari Testarossa, (testosteronsa) and Thomas Magnum drove the mean streets of Honolulu in a Ferrari 308GTS. With a top speed of 180 mph, you can catch any bad boy if you can break out of the traffic gridlock of Miami and Honolulu. By comparison, Elvis Cole's yellow Corvette is a kiddie car.

Fear me. Rick Simon, the other half of Simon and Simon, drove a Dodge Power Wagon. This monster started off as a military vehicle and is alone in its class.




Girl's just wanna have fun Nervy, curvy PI, Honey West drove a 57 Corvette. The car was fast, sleek and sexy like Honey, herself. The chase was on when Honey "slammed fire into the 'Vette's carburetors." When she got to TV, she acquired even more va-voom with an AC Cobra. That's it on the left.
Chicago's own fast and dangerous V.I. Warshawski likes power under her foot. Her ride is a Pontiac TransAm.
Stunning PI Bridget Logan folds her six-foot frame into a Porsche Boxster.


Emma Peel envy. Emma Peel drove a little blue Lotus Elan. Not to be outpaced, Sharon McCone drives an MGB. No question that an MGB is cute and sporty, but reliable? When you're fleeing for your life from a bad guy, you want that car to start.
Where Honey West was fast and sexy, Laura Holt in Remington Steele was just cute and her car, a Volkswagon Golf convertible, reflected that. It was high in cute factor, like its driver, but bad guys needn't worry about getting away.



You came in what? Don’t let the ride fool you. Columbo’s 1960 Peugeot 403 is wrinkled and woeful-looking, like its owner, but it gets the job done. Over 1,200,000 of these were sold.




Image is everything and the Remington Steele company car was not the Golf, but Steele's 1936 Auburn Boattail Speedster. I’d love to see this baby shedding hubcaps on those jouncy San Francisco hills.




In my opinion, the weirdest duck in the detective motorcade belonged to Travis McGee. He drove an electric blue Rolls Royce that was converted to a pickup truck which McGee named Miss Agnes. Miss Agnes might have looked something like this.

The detective in my new series, Ava Rome, is in the class with Honey, V.I., and Bridget. She drives a red Mustang GT convertible because she likes power under her foot and wind in her hair. She likes the looks she gets stepping out of it.
So what does your character drive and what does it say about him or her?

Mark Troy
Crime Fiction by Mark Troy
Hawaiian-eye