Not to be all dewy-eyed about bullshit car culture, but this is a pretty badass car am I right?
The person currently watching all my parents’ stuff (and driving their car) took this photo. This is our historical family car, which is some sort of 1985 GMC suburban. It is basically the biggest civilian car ever made in the world–I actually think that might be true. My dad gets offers for it on the street because it’s this crazy collectible icon of a past age or something. It holds, I don’t know, 87 people. This is the car I grew up driving as a teenager, can you imagine? It was like driving a yacht. I was always sure I was taking up at least a lane and a half but somehow it works. Car really drives itself. Got a sweet tape deck in there. Imagine being parents and letting your dumbass 19 year old go driving off in this thing, packed with her drunk college friends, at one in the morning, down the windiest mountain road in the world. Just waving them off to make the 45 minute drive home after the bluegrass festival. What in the world, how can anyone bear to raise children!?
Rides real smooth. Costs like $200 to fill it up? Gets, I don’t know, one mile to the gallon. Awful! There’s always, like, a length of chain, an axe, an old dog blanket, a jerry can for gas, 3 Nalgene water bottles, two yoga blocks (for driving posture!), and between 2 and 7 Willie Nelson tapes in this car. This is the car that my dad picked me up at the airport in and it had just blizzarded and on the way out we hit ice and spun out and slammed into a stop sign and knocked it cock-eye and then my dad just goes “you okay honey?” and put it into drive and drove off, like no biggie, didn’t even get out to check on the car or anything. That’s country living for you.
My parents have driven this car from Colorado to Disneyland
