The tale of two Falcons
It’s a simple truth that our family has always been Ford fans.
For as far back as I remember the cars have been descendants of the original Henry. I recall driving off in a new model way back and hating leaving my treasured XC at the dealership.
Cars have personalities and recently, my beloved long-time servant, a blue Falcon named Yuri, headed off to a new owner. Yuri will no doubt give them the same reliable service he gave me.
My son told the person (friend with references) who took him that Yuri is indestructible.
If a tree were to fall across the highway it would hit the car behind.
Yuri survived the 2014 Mickleham bushfires, saved our dogs and kangaroos have bounced off him with damage to them but not him.
Lucky is Yuri’s middle name. He’s never given us a moments trouble.
The silver Falcon was possessed.
Mum and dad bought it for me, and they were so proud, but it cost me hundreds more to keep the wretched thing on the road.
It spent a lot of time in the local garage with its mouth open, I felt it didn’t like me, so I gave it to my husband to drive.
Since then, my daughter in law got booked for speeding in it, then Reg copped two speeding fines in it, amazing! He drives so slowly that old ladies on pushbikes pass him!
Who got lumped with the wretched points? Me.
I should have set fire to that cursed car, fair dinkum.
Yes, I know they can do a statutory declaration to say they the drivers, but no. I had points on my licence, apart from gifting the government megadollars for fines given in places where you couldn’t do any damage if you were FLYING. I was over it.
Like Yuri, the silver beast survived the 2014 fire.
When we moved to Kilmore it stalled on me in the middle in the busiest part of town, at the traffic lights.
Horns blew, people shouted, huge stock trucks revved and, embarrassingly, I had to be pushed across the intersection by two police men.
Worse was to come when we were in the rental after the fires. Reg got into it to reverse out of the garage and instead it shot forward collapsing the walls and almost giving my poor old man heart failure. The car? Not even a dent.
‘That’s it,” I said.
Enter a new car a Ford Focus, a dear little thing. I said to my son that I never wanted to see that silver Falcon again and I was happy when he sent me a photo of it on the back of a wrecker’s truck. It was POSSESSED!
Still, as my faithful Yuri sits in the front yard, awaiting dispatch, I have no doubt he will serve his new owner well. I miss him.
