Everyone has something in their family that serves as a source of embarrassment. Whether it’s a story your parents always tells whenever a friend comes over, that humiliating naked baby photo of you hanging in the hallway, or your dad greeting your prom date with a pair of camo pants, a shotgun and suspenders (true story); everyone’s got one. Of the many embarrassments I have the choose from, I’d say our van reigned supreme.

It began as a the hallowed vehicle. Our neighbors were moving to Portugal and needed to sell their van, and we needed a new vehicle. The van was a ’92 Mercury Villager- a beige beauty. My mom was in heaven- she’d ALWAYS wanted a minivan.

We had many a vacation in the van, vacations that always led to some sort of epic, hilarious story that left us all laughing so hard we cried. Christmas of my freshman year in high school brought with it a surprise road trip to Disney World, and that van was host to several “remember when…” stories. Like “remember when Seth got so mad that he started banging his head against the headrest in rapid succession?” It was so unexpected and comical that the entire car erupted in laughter. Or “remember when we used to push the rear passenger radio controls and Mom couldn’t figure out why the radio station was changing?”

Over the years, the van sustained a myriad of assaults. It began when my mom left a dead car battery sitting on the floor for a couple of weeks, and the battery leaked acid all over the carpet. Everything went downhill from there…

The first dent was from me. It was my first trip to the gas station as a licensed driver, and I came a little too close to the concrete bar that it intended to keep you from damaging the gas pump. It worked… I didn’t damage the gas pump. But boy, was my mom MAD.

This second dent happened when some neighbors were attempting to fit a U-Haul into a normal-sized parking space. The U-Haul scraped up alongside the van, and actually lifted the van off the ground. My dad told them not to worry about it because the van was already dented from my 16-year-old self. Mom wasn’t pleased… again.

I think this dent involved something with a telephone pole, but I can’t remember the exact story. Either way, it was my dad’s fault this time.

I was always humiliated to take the van to the gas station because opening the gas tank was a full-body effort. No joke. Somehow the gas door became dented as well, so the normal little button to open it no longer worked. The process to open the hatch involed pressing the button (located next to the driver’s seat) down with your foot while leaning over and pound on the hinged side of the gas tank window thing. Problem was, I could never remember which side the hinge was on, so I stood there in ballerina arabesque mode while hammering my fists into the side of the van.

I was embarrassed to ever drive this thing. There were a couple of time in college when my car broke down and I was forced to resort to this baby. I did my best to never go out, and if I had to, I prayed the entire way to my destination that no one would see me.

While on a 10-week missions trip in Hampton Beach, NH, I had the van with me. I was pretty bummed, because I was supposed to take my cute little convertible, but due to an oil leak the day befor emy departure, I had to take the van. This cracked back light happened when my friend Brian used the van to save his parking spot on the street. I guess someone hit the car during the 3 hours it was parked there. I just love New England.

No idea what happened here, but the side paneling now flaps in the wind whenever you drive over 25 mph.

The only cool part about this car was the back- I loved all the stickers we amassed over the years. We had a bunch of surfing stickers on the car, so I felt so cool whenever we strapped the boards to the top on our way to the beach.

These are my favorite stickers. Both of them are from these AWESOME surf shops in Hampton Beach, NH, Cinnamon Rainbows and Zapstix.

 

What about you? What’s your family’s most embarrassing legacy? (Dad, Mom, Ethan and Seth- if you say me, none of you all are getting Christmas gifts.)