Nevertheless, I loved that car dearly. I bought one of those cassette holders that locks the tapes in so they won’t slide out, and affixed the holder to the ceiling of the vehicle. The stereo was a $20 Radio Shack Special, with speakers that I had taken off an old boom box and mounted on the back seats by means of seat belts. The rear window and bumper of the car was plastered with Dead Kennedys, Slayer, Metallica, Misfits, Black Flag, etc, stickers. It was truly a work of art.

I’m afraid, however, that the closest to a PG-13 activity the inside of that car ever saw while I owned it was what was gave the car its nickname: “The Doob Sube.” I remarkably little success enticing any young ladies to engage in any other PG-13 activities. I retrospect, I’m guessing it’s because the sight of a beat-up, rusty, Subaru wagon, covered with punk and metal stickers and reeking of pot smoke, was not exactly the chick magnet my 16 year old mind envisioned it as.