22,341 — Getting our kicks

The Boy looks at me with doubt in his eyes.

“I think we’re wasting our time,” he says.

We’ll see.

We’re standing in the driveway — The Boy (more a man than a boy, really) and me — on a cool, crisp, sunny Sunday. Soccer practice is set for 10 a.m. (thank you time change) and we’re about to head out.

There’s only one large problem. The gear. As coach of the U17 Darlington Bravehearts, I have three large bags of balls (10 balls in each), pinnies, pylons and two pug nets to haul to each practice.

“Why don’t we just take the minivan?” asks The Boy, logically.

Yes, we are a minivan family. It’s practically law (or it should be) that you require a minivan if you coach soccer. I have hauled up to six players at a time — balls and bags included — to games and practices.

I explain to The Boy the method behind my madness. Just how well would the Accent fare if pressed into soccer duty?

He still seems skeptical.

We lift up the hatch and The Boy folds down the rear seats. They don’t lie completely flat but it’s not so bad.

In goes the first ball bag. No problem.

Ditto the second.

Wow. It took the third one as well.

The rest of it is shoved into various nooks and crannies, the pug nets squeeze in flat atop the bags, and the hatch comes down.

GOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

22,153 — Cute and cuddly

“I like it, I think it’s cute.”

Cute?

“Yeah, cute.”

And with that, the missus gave her blessing to the Accent.

But didn’t you notice the car shake and all that road noise when you pushed the car past 120 km/h on the highway?

“No. Why would I? You’re not supposed to drive that fast anyway.”

Uh huh. But the Echo is nicer.

“Yeah, but the Accent costs less. And it’s all we really need to get around.”

So it’s cheap and it’s uh, cute. Anything else?

"No."

Uh, thanks. I think.

21,991 km — Dancing with the Devil ... again

This is not my first dance with an Accent. We have a history.

But last time, I was left all alone at the prom and all I got was a kiss-off.

I drove a new two-door hatch base-model — it didn’t even have air conditioning — from 2000-2004. It was fire engine red, it was ugly and it got me where I needed to go.

That’s about all I can say. It was by no means fabulous. The interior was cheap looking, the steering suspect, the car was loud and it shook at higher speeds. But it did its job, was inexpensive and I was happy.

For a while, anyway.

Then came the breakup, a messy affair.

I contacted Hyundai early in the fourth year of the lease, when at 58,000 km — 2,000 kilometres under distance but two months past the three-year warranty — the clutch went. That’s a mulligan in my book. And I have never had a clutch go before (or since).

The local dealership wouldn’t fix it without approval from Hyundai HQ and my telephone experience with “Richard,” some corporate customer service lackey made me resolute that Hyundai would never see my business again. He actually cackled out loud when I asked to speak to his superior.

Goodbye Hyundai, hello Toyota. I leased a 2004 Echo — spent the extra coin on some bells and whistles — and have been exceedingly happy ever since. This is a relationship that works.

And now, here we are again. The Accent has come back into my life, trying to make it up to me, seduce me, convince me that it will be different this time.

We’ll see.

21,829 km — The fast and the furious

I am cursed in this car.

There I am, happily heading home, having made the correct choice in avoiding the DVP today. Along Lakeshore, up Woodbine, a short stretch of O’Connor and east onto St. Clair. I’m kicking GO Transit butt, and starting to warm up to the Accent.

And then ... it all comes to a screeching halt.

I am pulled over for speeding. I’m clocked doing 66 km/h in a 50. Adding to my misery, the Toronto police officer discovers that there’s something improper with the insurance (can somebody look into this, Mark?). The cop knocks it down to 60 in a 50, decides to ignore the faulty insurance (whew!) and I am soon back on the road, with a shiny yellow $40 ticket ($25 for speeding, and $15 in various surcharges) tossed angrily into the back seat.

Yeah, it’s my fault. Yeah, the Accent only does what I make it do. Yeah, I’m an idiot.
But still ...

This car. This Accent. I swear, it does NOT like me.

Suddenly, GO Transit is starting to look pretty good again.

21,621 km — Plain trains and automobile

My GO Transit trip ended 11 minutes behind schedule this morning.

It was the fourth time in the past nine trips that GO fell short of expectations.

So it was with giddiness and glee that I accepted the keys to the Accent this afternoon.

No more GO for me. No sir. I was gonna ride home in style, in comfort and on time.

I slipped behind the wheel at 4:40 p.m. and pulled away from One Yonge knowing that rush-hour traffic awaited me on the DVP. No matter. Yeah, it was gonna take me a little longer, but how bad could it possibly be?

Turns out it was stop and go. Mostly stop.

At 5:20, I was still on the DVP, inching my way to the 401. Frustrated, I began to curse the car, blaming it for my predicament.

After all, had I taken the 4:53 express train east to Oshawa, I would now be a mere 3 minutes from arrival in Ajax.

At 5:37, I was moving slowly along the highway just past Brimley. The GO Train was pulling into the Oshawa station, my destination.

Gawd, how I hate this car.

The Accent and I were not off to a good start. On the plus side, I did notice through all my bumper-to-bumper driving that shifting gears — and I shifted ‘em a lot, mostly the low ones — was a smooth, seamless process.

Additionally, the snappy, compact vehicle was more than game when it came to darting from lane to lane in a stupid attempt to get that extra inch ahead of the pack.

And when I finally drove past the Oshawa GO station on the way to Newcastle at 6:05 p.m. — 28 minutes after the train’s arrival — I did note that it was raining hard. The walk to my car would’ve been nasty. Instead, I was high and dry.

Hate is such a harsh word. Maybe, after a sound night’s sleep, the Accent and I will try again.

After all, it’s not as if GO has captured my heart.