I’ve had 2 Saturns and one Taurus. My Saturns’ names were Sam and Jelly and My Taurus’ name is Delores. My boy toy’s car is a Subaru and her name is Coby.
I love the idea of naming the clunk of junk that you are stuck in traffic with!
My dad always referred to his cars by their years. The “72”, or “69”. He even called my mom his “35”, once.
My wife hates to refer to the vehicles by their years, so we’ve come up with names. “Zippy” is our Toyota Highlander Hybrid (as it’s quite speed when passing); “Hoss” is the Tundra (as it’s big).
Now my motorcycle is named “Lindsay”. This name came from a phone message, wrongly left on our voice mail that went: “Hi, Dave. It’s Lindsay. I just want to say how much I enjoy being with you and that I love you. Okay? Bye.”
All I could think was “Boy am I glad I got to this message first.”
Now I contend that I do not know anyone named Lindsay. It’s funny that she got my name right, but the phone answering message says “You’ve reached Joan and Dave.” That should be your first hint, Lindsay, that I might be cheating on you.
You guys gave some bad advice! (perhaps that’s not new to you :^) He’s destined to have problems forever if he changes the name of that car (or eliminates it entirely) particularly with a gender change. We are boat owners and as you know, all boats are named. If you change it, without the proper process, your boat will leak, the diesel engine will die, there will be continued dripping onto your pillow or head everynight it rains. The proper process requires an exorcism of sorts of the old name- anything with any semblance of the old name needs to be destroyed or removed from the boat and a new christening done for the new name, including breaking a bottle of fine champagne (or cheap wine) on the stern. I would suggest that you change your response to this poor bloke before Mark turns on him if he starts calling him Marcia or Markie! Eek! He may already be a goner!
I have only had one vehicle that had a name. I drove a red ford econoline van when my children were in school. They named it Redford and called it a male. Redford took us many miles!
I call my little '95 Saturn SL2 “Little Car”. Not really a name per se - more like a condition.
The only car my wife and I ever named was a 1991 ford Escort SE.
After the warranty ran out it developed two little
intermittent quirks:
- The gas gauge would stay above half-full forever then dive to an eighth-tank all of a sudden
- The check-coolant light came on once in a while for no foreseeable reason
We called it…Sybil
although cars may not have a soul, one cannot argue that they do have a personality. specifically older cars. I believe that a car should be named for its looks and personality. I have a 1993 Honda Civic named Ashley. I have friend with a 2000 Civic SI named Julia. I have also had the pleasure to meet cars named Suzie and Roxane. I believe that even though they are inatamite mechanical objects, cars have many traits that allow them even entitle them to name.
I call my car “super bucket”. It is an 88
civic hatchback with 360,000 miles on original engine.
My car is WHOOPZ. I even have it on my license plate. My father used to call me Whoopz Hayden. Whenever I did something wrong, I would say “whoops, look what somebody did” (I am a true blond after all). I named it Whoopz instead of Whooops because I thought it added to the fun by not spelling it write. My sweetheart, Bob, did not name his Jeep and it has been a really BAD car. My Subaru has been a wonderful car. I love your show! I have been listening to you for many, many years (sorry for any words I wrote wrong, I had brain surgery, due to brain cancer, and I am learning how to write and talk again) Enjoy your day! Wendy Hayden of Hopkinton NH
Absolutely 100% yes. I come from a family of car-namers. My current car is a 96 Subaru Outback Sport named Gilbert. (He’s green. Think of “What’s Eating Gilbert Grape”).
And here’s why:
My previous car, a white 92 Toyota Corolla wagon, was having some “rust issues” (it essentiall lacked the bottom of 3 doors). We found another corolla, red, that had all new doors but a blown motor. We purchased it, swapped the doors, and a week later repainted my car. However, for that week in between my car looked terrible: he was an awful mess – part white, part red, part primer, and a little Rustoleum. We started calling him “Frankenstein’s Monster.” Three months later, on a frigid night he died while I was on the highway – it was the headgaskets. It was the only time my car EVER failed me in 200,000 miles. We brought it home, fixed it, and we started calling him “Frank” instead. There was never another issue for the remaining 4 years I owned him.
I have also had an 88 Subaru Justy named (most creatively) “Jay”, and an 85 GMC 1/2 ton named “Niles.” No other vehicle I have ever owned who had a proper name has ever died, or even had much trouble (knock on wood).
My first car was a navy blue 1984 Oldsmobile Delta 88. This started out as my father’s company car, first leased the year I started junior high. Eventually, my dad bought it and kept it till 1993, at which point he gave it to me as a college graduation present. The car got terrible mileage, and it was hell to parallel park. It had well over 100,000 miles when I got it, had a massive dent in the front passenger wheel well from when my youngest sister was learning how to drive, and had a constant stream of mechanical problems.
But it’s defining characteristic was that, in the years before SUVs took over, it was frequently the biggest thing on the road. It was a monster. One of my fellow grad students took one look at it and dubbed it “the Batmobile.” I tended to use the name my family had given it, “the Big Blue Boat.” And since I was studying military history and German, I eventually abbreviated this to “Das Boot.”
Sadly, Das Boot is no longer with us. When I moved to Maryland in the fall of 2000, the safety inspector assessed so many repairs that I realized it would be cheaper to get a new car. No sane dealer would give me any credit for it as a trade in, so I decided to donate it to the American Lung Association. I figured that, after 17 years of spewing toxic fumes into the atmosphere, this was the only just thing to do.
My Mum had a red Subaru named Ruby as well – a Legacy wagon. Now she has a white Outback Ltd named “Pearl.”
If humans have souls, so do cars. Afterall, we are just machines, too. My first car was a 1966 Volvo that I named Toody. When her body died, her soul migrated to a 1973 Volvo, and the migrations continued through two other Volvos. She now resides in a 1993 SAAB. Toody has never let me down. She’s the greatest car and friend in the world. I have a few other cars, too, Mehitabel is an Audi Allroad; Little Bess is a 1993 SAAB convertible, and Lizzie is a Chevrolet SSR.
Also, women do not name their cars mostly after men. Why name a car after a man? Men are absolutely UNRELIABLE!
Take care, guys,
Gayle
Of course you should name your car. My first one was a boy named T-rex and it had a mind of its own. The doors would literally fly open when I turned, but only sometimes. It really kept you on your toes! My second car is named Isis, she is a girl, and I have had her for about 12 years now. She is still kicking. My boyfriends? car is named Hermes. Our house is named Ra. We name everything. Even our dog! I really don?t think naming my car has had ANY effect on me taking care of her, because I?m really bad about that! She does get an oil change every once in a while.
Sure–usually with a funny name. I had a car I named “Coprolite”. Which is—petrified dinosaur poop. It truly was “the last of the dinosaurs” and a piece of #$%*@!. My college roommate gave me a piece of coprolite enshrined on a gold stand for my birthday in honor of that car!
My last car was Emmy. She was a bright red Pontiac Grand Prix and I got her as I turned 50. Emmy was really MM–the menopause mobile!
krmonagle@comcast.net
Actually, my cars all name themselves. Within two hours of buying my silver Hyundai Elantra, it told me its name was J.D.C.–short for John Doe Car.
Yes, you should name your car.
I have:
Scooter the under powered 1990 Toyota 4x2 truck
Hildy the 1978 450 SLC Mercedes
Squirt the 2 seater
In order to answer the question I must tell you a little story.
When I was dating my wife her boyfriend was big, mean and nasty. Why was I dating someone with a boyfriend? That is another story.
Since I am a musician, I was playing at one of the local bars. My soon to be wife called and asked what I would be driving to the gig. I said the 72 pickup, in order to haul the equipment. I also told her that I was nervous about leaving it in front of the bar, as her soon to be ex-boyfriend may shoot it full of holes then burn it to the ground. (This happens a lot in Idaho) To which she replied ?I understand, that truck kinda hollers out to ya doesn’t it?"
The answer to the question is yes. The name is part of us and we are emotionally attached to him, and would never think of selling it. Unless the IRS calls.
Opps, I forgot to mention the name of the truck is Holler.
The only car I ever named was back in 1980 when I got a 1967 Barracuda convetable, which my then wife and I called “Cuda Car”. You put your foot to the floor and saw the speedometer needle jump up as the gas gage dropped like a rock.