Red ‘89 Volkswagen Cabriolet that I bought for $500 at a used car dealership in downtown LA. This thing had personality and a life of it’s own. I named him Kenny Powers.

Here’s some of the key features...

Things in the engine that should have been welded were duct taped together.

There came a point where one of the battery connectors was lose and would come off during every bumpy ride, so to start it, I’d have to pop the hood and reconnect it. I remember having to do this in front of a group of cheerleaders one time. Rough.

To get KP up to speed to go on the highway I had to time my approach perfectly and hit a green light right before the on-ramp, or else I wouldn’t have enough speed to merge into traffic.

Kenny only picked up hispanic mariachi radio stations, but I enjoyed being forced to broaden my musical horizons on my weekly 60-90 minute drive from LA to Long Beach to see my girlfriend at the time.

It had a soft top that my head pushed into (its a tiny car and I’m 6’2). One time I ran a bunch of stop signs and a red light in front of an unmarked cop (as I mentioned, stopping while driving was an iffy maneuver, and you couldnt be sure you’d start again). He flashed his badge and told me to roll my window down. As I’m hand cranking my window down to talk to him, listening to NPR (one of the few radio stations that happened to come in near my house), I see his face go from rage to something like pity. He just tells me to slow it down and be aware of the signs. I say okay, and we move on.

One upside is that other drivers see this thing and immediately know I’m a man with nothing to lose. They let me merge in front of them like an asshole because 1) he’s tiny and its hard to be mad at a tiny car and 2) they care more about not getting their car dented than I do mine.

Sold him to a friend for $300 and he promptly died a few months later. RIP KP.