We were not going to be those parents who purchase a car for their 16-year-old, but when a friend asked us which of our fairly new cars we wanted our inexperienced driver?s accident to be in, we started looking for a heap. She drove Gretta, the green Jetta to school and work for a couple of years. We have never named our cars, but by giving this one a name we can refer to it as ?Gretta? and not ?your car,? thus allowing us to pretend that we did not cave. Now she is away at college and our son is learning to drive. He plans to call it Regretta because it sounds more manly. We tell him he can call it anything he likes except his. (By the way, the car she did eventually total belonged to a friend of hers.)
My dad had many “project cars” while I was growing up. He named them all “Sheneeda” because she always needed something.
Yes - they are a member of the family just like your tooth brush.
I own a Volvo XC70 - Gustav. Prior car as Volvo S70 - Sven - Both Good Swedish names.
My husbands Mini S is percy - Good English name
some cars just invite being named due to some trait or characteristic. My 1977 Honda Civic was the first car I had ever had with a manual choke. Especially on cold mornings, it would not be rushed and it took me a while to get the hang of it. Until I did, it would sputter, stumble and snort around. I called it Snortin’ Norton. Later just Norton, for short.
Absolutely. I think most of us who’ve spent any decent amount of time listening to and trying to figure out the inner-workings of our cars would agree: different cars have different personalities. Some require special love & attention to keep them happy; others can be a true pleasure to be around.
My car, Mr. Roads (a 2006 MINI Cooper Convertible), has heaps of personality. He’s my travel buddy–he comes with me on road-trips all around Southern California–and, fortunately, we have a lot in common… we like visiting the same places, taking the scenic route, and listening to the same music (and NPR programming, of course.)
There’s nothing that convinces me more that he’s got a personality than when his favorite songs are playing and we’re driving on the open road. There’s a noticeable change in mood–I think it must put him at ease, because for some reason, the ride seems a little bit smoother and time just seems to fly by…
As far as I’m concerned, if we think of a car as having it’s own person-ality, we might as well name him (or her), too. I’m sure, to some, it must seem strange to think of giving a name to an inanimate object, but, hey, I say, “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”
I’d say it depends on the model and the paint theme.The
Dukes of Hazzard had the General Lee.
We had a '78 Chevy Caprice wagon while I was living with my parents.Everyone who was driving used the car at various times.I was working on it continouisly,but couldn’t keep up with everyone using it all the time.
Around that time,it was being referred to as “Uncle Buck”.Remember the movie “Uncle Buck”,the car John Candy was driving needed everything from A to Z.The Chevy wagon wasn’t in any where near that bad condition,but it seems if a fuse blew,the car was junk.
I bought a brand-new Honda Accord in 1996. That was the car my husband and I drove to the airport after our wedding, the car that took me to the hospital during the labor of both children, the car that got us through the first ten years of marriage! This summer, we just bought a 2003 Honda Odyssey and it hit me: I actually felt GUILTY for not naming the Accord. We’d always use the phrase, “We’re all in One Accord,” but we never actually named it. Poor thing! I decided to not feel guilty again and immediately named our van–Penelope, after Odysseus’ wife who was loyal and creative, two qualities I’m hoping our van possesses (not that I think it’s a person, but these are characteristics I’d like in my family vehicle). The Accord, which my husband now drives, still does not have a name; nothing has really struck me. It does make me sad b/c this vehicle has been with us through EVERYTHING.
So naming vehicles is a bit crazy, but after ten years of good, reliable “service,” doesn’t it seem that we should call it something other than “One Accord”? I’ve named the van, but I’m not sure I’ll really refer to it as “Penelope”… but I have the option available if the time ever arises.
I’m going to name my new car the James Caird for good luck. (Some of you will have to Google for the reference)
I,of course,own a Mini Cooper. And what
better name than Alice for her (Mini
encourages all owners to name their cars
and therefore develope a paternal
devotion to an mechanical device)than “Alice” Cooper. A true sign that I am old enough to know who and what Alice stood for. Bsck then to be anti-establishment was “cool”.
My Alice is silver (she is getting older, you know)with a black top. She has purple and black leather interior. She has two stuffed manatees for mascotts an oddity also encouraged by Mini), Alice and Howie.
This is the first car I have owned with a name and I must admit it is kind of fun. At my age you take your fun where you find it. Besides, my grandkids get a kick out of it.
My husband and I love your show.
Sincerely, Kim
WHY??? Beelzebub, Jezebel, Satin, Minion of Darkness – were all taken ? so when something goes wrong, I?m with The Boys ? You Piece of @#$FFA) seems just fine. Even when it?s MY fault and get stuck in mud or sand, or, worse, once high centered on a rock that wasn?t there in the sage brush 15 minutes before … and I broke a nearly new manifold and it took me half a day of hauling rocks (with a bad back) to build a ramp to get the front and rear tires to take, it certainly wasn?t MY fault that some boulder had rolled down a hill into the middle of the sage brush in the center of the dirt road ? and who would blame a ROCK! ? It was that No Good Piece Of . . . . that was the problem. If I wasn?t 30 miles from the nearest good dirt road I?d have walked, Hitched, and had it towed ? a lot of good that 250 radius AAA card did me THAT day! Cell Phone? Where I live, there aren’t such things unless you are on the right height on the right side of the right mountain – and i had no clue since I don’t own one!
If it had a name I?d have probably pulled out my pistol and shot it. And then my shot gun, and as I walked away, my rifle until I was over the ridge. Naming a car only makes it something you believe has control and destiny over (or at best WITH) you. Keeping it a machine at least lets you remember that YOU have ALL the responsibility. It isn’t shared – give it a name and suddenly you share your destiny. Don’t give it a name and your destiny is in your own hands – so keep them busy and not a play thing of satin.
BTW – that day I was checking fence, and unhooked an antelope that had tried to jump the fence to the spring, and gotten snared in the top strand – so it was simply pull out the fencing tool cut the top strand, let the old bull go – and it WAS old – far too old to shoot for dinner — wrap the fence back up and drive home along that road in 3d gear (lucky it wasn’t 4th like I normally do – and slam into a boulder. If anything it was the spirit of the saved Antelope that kept me from pulling the shifter down into 4th, – or the power of 3d that echoed the power of setting such a magnificent creature free and saving it from a slow death of starvation or a quicker one from coyote.
Keep your car a ‘thing’ and you will treat it better, you won’t have passive aggressive relationships, you won’t have fights over who’s right and who’s wrong-- it’s all VERY clear – YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE TO BLAME. It’s a nice ploy for a generation (exception: gabby and Jezebel – which taught young children to stay away from that side of life) to help share the ‘Blame’ on something wrong with their car - but face it – in the entire known universe, you are responsible for your machines – and if they fail, it’s probably YOUR fault for not keeping it in running condition.
Dents, scratches, bumps – none matter – only that stuff you can’t see when you aren’t on your back or bent over at a 120 degree angle.
One last thing other than being number 250 – I think people who name their machinery are nuts! – did that guy really name his TOOTHBRUSH? how about the chair he sits in? the fork he uses? The desk he sits at – probably longer than he drives his car? The only thing I think I name things is when something goes wrong, and then it’s only one name that rhymes with ‘witch’. And it also often describes the situation I’m in as well – as in “What a…” – I think it might be why I’m single!
My wife and I have two prius cars (2003 and 2006). We gave them the name Sophie and Simona because of their female GPS voices guiding us to our destinations.
The only time I have named a car is when its mechanics were in question and I, with no mechanical ability, had no other choice than to use the age old women’s ploy of asking it nicely to start. Usually the names were associated with old folk names like Bessie, or Myrtle, or Old Blue. Sex had nothing to do with the name, could be male or female. I stopped naming my cars when I married a mechanic.
Did Freud name his cigars? I’ve named my car after the license plate that begins with “4BOM,” therefore, my car is named ‘the Bomb.’ Should WeatherMEN name storms? When a tropical storm of my name hit Florida in 1998, I didn’t hear the end of the bad and cheap jokes until the next storm came in (it had a male name). Did anyone correlate the man’s temperment to the weather conditions? NOT!#%* Why can’t we name storms after cars? How about naming a storm ‘Beamer(+yr/model)’ if it’s wind gusts top 200 mph? How about naming a storm ‘Edsel’ should it never surpass a tropical depression and turn into mere rainful when it hits ground? Honestly, there has to be a scientific solution to this somewhere. This stuff about cars and emotions is well, how can I say it, too much of a drag for me!
Every car I’ve had has had a name, and each one of them has performed amazingly–from running out of gas right next to an emergency phone to making trips they were in no condition to complete. I suspect it may have more to do with my treatment of an entity I have an emotional investment in than the car’s reaction to it’s name, but whatever, I firmly believe in the practice.
I have gone back and forth on naming my vehicles.
My first car was not my car at all, it was my parents’ 86 Oldsmobile Calais. Learned to drive on it, loved driving it … had a great little engine and a lot of character. Its name was The Hopper. The name fit perfectly because of its sprightly demeanor and handling.
After that I went to college. I was able to talk my parents into loaning me their 83 Chevy Caprice Estate station wagon, which was affectionately and appropriately named The Tank.
My first car was a 93 Mercury Sable. I loved that car very much … but surprisingly, never gave it a name. I owned it for four years before it died.
Next I had a 94 black Bonneville SSEi. It was named Cass (short for Cassius) and was very male. Occasionally my brother and I would joke that it should have been named KITT, because it had so many buttons and the holographic HUD.
After that, I drove a white 98 Saturn SL2 for three years. Again, this car was very much my friend, but it never got a name, except I would occasionally refer to it as Little Guy.
Which brings me to my current car, an 03 Dodge Intrepid, which I’ve had for over 3 years now, whom I refer to as Big Guy. Obviously these two vehicles are male, but have not had names bestowed to them.
I don’t think it’s stupid to name our cars. Our cars are like our companions, we usually have them for a long time, and when they’re not feeling well we nurse them back to health, when they’re performing smoothly we enjoy the ride. Especially cars we really love and that fit us well. There’s also the aspect of ownership over a car that applies in giving it a name … by doing so, you are asserting your stewardship of it, and at the same time giving it an identity. It’s more difficult to love a contraptiion of nuts and bolts, but a contraption of nuts and bolts named “Rebecca” … well, that’s more than a contraption. I don’t think giving a car a name gives it a soul, it just gives us a concept in our minds that’s slightly more companionable than the concept of a machine widget.
Sure,why not? It adds character. My 1971 Chevelle SS is “Missouri” since she was built there. My 1965 Corvair Monza is “Monte” named by the last owner’s kids (like a ship, it’s bad luck to change names). Lastly my 74 Norton Commando motorcycle is “Victoria” after the queen.
I have always named my cars. right now I am driving a '93 Cadillac Fleetwood. I call him Al, as in “Sorry Al Gore, I’ve got a gas guzzler.” But Al is recycled, bought locally, and is the best ride for the folks who live in the small assisted living home I own and manage. Karen in WV
Absolutely!
Cars are animate objects. The term anima comes the Latin for life, sort of.
Ships have been given names for generation upon generation, beginning with NOAHSARK!
Ships are always referred to as she, of course, for obvious reasons. They hold the crew and cargo as an expectant mother carries her expectation.
sincerely,
Pete Moss
not all of my cars have had names.
but the ones that did, certainly had the MOST personality.
these were:
The Flying Frog. (a green '71 toyota corona hardtop, that looked sporty but its suspension was not up to its ambitions. it met its early demise flying and rolling off a curve.)
The Blue Barge. (a '69 ford LTD. it succeeded the Flying Frog. which was preceeded by a kawasaki motorcyle. compared to those two, the LTD was indeed a barge! despite its appointments, certainly not a land yatch)
Foggie’s Ghost. a white '71 corona Mark II into which Froggie’s still robust engine was transplanted. when holes developed in the resonator, it even sometimes sounded hoarse like a frog!