Okay. This is obviously a brochure picture of my 64 Rambler Cross Country Classic; that's because I can't find an actual picture of mine. Either way, here's a great story about my Rambler.

I was doing a sports show on a news/talk radio station in Winnipeg and the station was on Portage Avenue. The show was from 10 - midnight so I’d usually pull up around 9:00 and park in front of the station on Portage. One particular night as I was parking, I rolled to a stop and had just opened my door when I needed to reach over to the passenger side to get something. Right then a semi passed by my car and the vortex it created caused my door to swing wide open and ultimately get caught by the back end of the semi trailer. It tore my door wide open and bent it round to the front of the car.

Now what? It’s an hour before I go on the air and it’s snowing. I drive my Rambler around to the back of the station and very carefully aim it at the cinder-block foundation. I drive in such a way - with the driver’s side of the car inches from the building - that the bottom of the building slowly closes my door. I then crawl out the passenger side and do my show.

On the show, I tell the story about my car. Wouldn’t you know it, a caller calls up and says he has a Rambler wagon he’ll sell me for $300. After the show - at midnight - I drive home and park my car, door ajar, for the night. The next day I go and look at this caller’s Rambler. It’s a 64 660 Cross Country Classic. I love it. The owner is so excited that it’s going to a good home that he drops the price to $200 and off I drive.

Because this ‘new’ car and my ‘old’ car are both Ramblers of the same year I simply put my existing plates on the wagon and I’m good to go. No way any cop is going to make that distinction if he/she pulls me over.

So now I had the wagon. Still a three in the tree - which was great because you never had to worry about it being stolen. Nobody under 30 had ever seen that kind of transmition before so good luck with that punk!

One winter morning my window was taking a long time defrost and my hands were cold. It suddenly dawned on my that my dashboard was made of metal. (Gotta love the old cars and their attention to safety. No seatbelts, you rear end someone and the passenger goes headfirst into a pointy, steel dashboard.) I had a candle in the glove box as part of my emergency kit. I lit it, melted some wax on the dashboard and stuck the candle on it. Instantly the car became warmer, the windshield defrosted faster and the mood in the car became calmer. It became my signature add-on for that car. I had a candle burning in their every time I drove it. Was it a safety hazard? According to the fire marshal who pulled me over it was but I didn’t think so.

Having beaters in general offered one a completely different set of driving rules. In a crowded parking lot, after a sports event, one didn’t have to worry about cutting in line. It became ‘a battle of the beaters.’ Whoever had the cheapest car ultimately won.