Frank the Tank

Our local radio station has a call-in type program every morning. They pose different questions/scenarios everyday. They have done favorite toy growing up, spousal nicknames, and horror stories about your kids. I always have a comment, but don't call in. Today though, I really wanted too.

This morning they were talking about first cars. Whether you bought it your self or your parents got it for you. Oh the stories of my first car!

My Junior year in high school I transferred to a new school (by choice). The school was about 20 minutes away with no traffic, 45 in rush hour. In order to get there my parents got me a car. Now, this was 1996. There were some great cars then, the Grand Prix was huge then. Is that what I got?

Nope.

I got a 1977 Pontiac Bonneville, or Frank the Tank we called him. He was mint green, not lime green, mint green. Two doors, and a HUGE car. I LOVED this car. It was a monster. Everyone knew my car, and loved it. I could fit 7 people in it comfortably. It was fabulous! Just think of the trouble you can into with a car that huge...

This car lasted just under a year.

I crashed him.

Badly.

A moment for Frank the Tank...

One day I was driving to my friend Andy's house, going down 494. There is a scary cloverleaf over 35W. I was checking my blind spot, and CRASH! I hit the car in front of me. Then CRASH the car behind me hit me. I bounced between them a couple times before coming to a stop. I ended up spending the afternoon in the hospital, and finding out that I am prone to blood pressure dropping in stressful situations (good info to have don't you think?).

Frank was done that day, and we mourned him...sort of. I was drugged out to prevent whiplash so I don't remember much, but he gone. All I remember is getting a frantic phone call from Andy, flowers and lots and lots and sleep.

Oh, and I still hold my breathe going over that bridge...12 years later.