the green pinto

When Miriam’s mother died we inherited her Pinto.

We also inherited her father. He had suffered with Parkinsons for some years and was not able to live alone, so we pushed the edges back in our small house and made room for him and his noisy TV.

The Pinto was almost new. Mom had fallen love with it for some reason (they were FORD people, for one thing). This one was a decked out model with two colors of paint and other little dressy tidbits that had little real usefulness.

When Miriam and Linda (who was about 6) took Marie to Mexico to get some cancer treatments, they drove the Pinto.

Each time I drove it I would put my hands on the shifter and it was always hot. That was not a good omen and I knew it.

Promptly at 25,000 the transmission went out. I was told they were “throw away” models and could not be repaired. We located a used one and had it installed.

All was good for another 25,000 miles and that one blew up. Again we replaced it. This time we were assured that the problems had been solved and that we should get good use from it. I was relieved.

But at 75,000, almost to the mile the third one blew and I was out of patience. Miriam had the title by then and I sold it for a song.

I am without much automobile brand loyalty, but that was the last Ford we ever owned.

My all time favorite vehicle was a Chevy, that is yet another story!