My first car was a '64 Volkswagen Beetle that my grandparents bought in Germany and shipped home after driving it for a summer over there. My dad bought it from them (I don't think they liked him very much) and my older sister and I "shared" it after he was done with it. By the time my sister and I got it, the heater air boxes had rusted through, so it had no heat or defrost. We used 2 ice scrapers in the winter, one with a brush attached for outside and a smaller one for the inside windows. On very cold mornings, I had to go chip the ice out of the fuel pump before the engine would run, and many times I had to do it in the afternoons, too. 6V systems didn't work very well in Minnesota winters for starting cars, so many times I would have to call dad to come and tow me home after the battery died. His idea was that lashing the front bumper of the VW to the back bumper of his van was the best way to tow it... until the first turn and the VW bumper was ripped right off. When I left home I left that POS there forever, I thought. 2 years later, he's getting nasty letters from the city about the derelict car in his front yard, so he says he's "giving" the car to me, as I lived farther out and no one would care if I had it in MY front yard. So we're towing it to my house, I'm in the VW and he's in his van, with at least a 6' piece of rope this time, and of course the brake pedal is rusted solid so I have no brakes and every time we come to a stop sign I crash into the back of his van. We get just about a mile from my house, when we hit a big bump, and the driver's seat, you know, the one I'm sitting in, falls through the rusted floor boards with me still sitting in it. I spent the rest of the trip half squatting over the driver's seat with one hand trying to hold up the back of the seat and the other one trying to steer the car. I HATED that POS car.
CrabbyJack