I've driven more than my fair share of junky cars. My first car was a 1994 Geo Prizm with less resale value than a used Twix wrapper. In college I drove a 1997 Chevy Blazer without air conditioning or any mirrors. And as recently as last year I drove a 1995 Ford Bronco with two steering wheels. (Okay, that was kind of awesome.) And I was proud to drive those cars. Not because I'm a glutton for punishment, but because it makes for a lot of fun stories. Plus I never had to worry about scratches or dents or dings (or duct tape repairs).
My newest addition to the list is no exception. I am now the proud owner of a 1993 Acura Legend. As is the case with all the other cars, the main reason I drive the Legend is its price. And that price was nothing. I will always choose a free car that embarrasses my wife over a car I can't afford that saves my ego (dignity is way overrated anyway).
But I'm particularly proud of this car. Because I actually had a hand in fixing it up. With the help of my father-in-law and a detailed repair book, we replaced the fuel injection o-rings and cushion rings, replaced the battery, and used duct tape as a substitute for the rubber stopper under the brake light switch that had dry-rotted over the last 9 months. And the day before doing that, I could only have identified the battery among those parts.