Then…in 1986, Phillip and his wife Margaret drove the car from California to Oregon to begin it’s new life with a freshly licensed me! I was in heaven. I loved my car. It had it’s quirks being older, but I still loved it. I drove it (turned the odometer over on a trip to the coast) until 1990 when being newly living on my own and working at the front desk of a local Shilo Inn, I couldn’t afford to be without a dependable car, in Oregon weather, and something had gone wrong enough with the car to stop me from driving it. The heat riser was stuck, open or shut, now I don’t remember, but it caused to manifold to glow red with heat. Scared the crap out of me. I refused to give her up though. I started driving other cars. I got my grandmothers Oldsmobile Firenza, then my new Subaru Loyale, some really funky weird cars during the TD (Tweakster Dee and Tweakster Dumb) years, from an old Chevette to a Cadillac, to an ancient Chevy Suburban from the early 60’s. During this same time, the Javelin was stolen by someone who said they were interested in buying the car. Years later (Civic, Saturn, Malibu, Accord, and Pathfinder) I have the car back. I had reported the car stolen when I still lived in North East Portland. Six years ago, after I moved to Aloha, I got a call from the police to tell me they had found the car. I actually drove it home. Wow. By then, I was trying my hardest to help Lexie’s dad find a hobby of his own, and a motivating reason to be active and work. One or two times he actually messed around with the thing, making it worse, not better. He had me help him disassemble the dashboard to get at the wiring and panel lights. This was against my better judgement and I argued with him exstensively about it. Now the interior is horrible and it still doesn’t run. Four more years go by, now in another house in Aloha, this time it has to be towed to the driveway. I kept trying to give him the car, he would refuse to take it, but it would be unforgivable if I were to sell it. Oh…if I only had a nickel for the times he would talk about what he would be doing to that car, if only he had the right parts and tools. I even went so far as to go on a shopping spree trip with him to NAPA to get the beginnings of what he needed. That was three years ago, all the stuff is still in the trunk of the car. He constantly used the excuse that he couldn’t work on the car while he had to watch Lexie and that he needed the garage to be cleaned out to move it in there. Now as the paper work is being put together by my divorce attorney and the decision of were the car lands is up to bat, I’m revisiting some anger and sorrow. The car is in a state now that I can’t repair, I don’t want to give it to him, but I also don’t want to argue about it. So, he gets the car as long as he pays the expense to remove it and does it timely, and I have to stipulate that he needs to take care of the title transfer too. My poor car, a tragic victim in all this.
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