The next milestone state of Feriko after February. Sharing too is a bit of a current reflection on owning it and the other cars.
This… this Honda Civic has and will keep being the sweetheart of early twenties.
Push back a year ago and after my family was able to accommodate for an additional parking space in Malaysia, I became very excited to surf locally for any car that may work as a car that I could play with proper – even if I hardly enough to buy into a “good” car.
That hunt was narrowed down in a Fuel for Thought post which summarized all of the cars I was gleefully looking at with the comparably little amount of money I had saved for an unwise purchase, and combined with peer influence and my own interest did I research, look and eventually meet and deal with this Honda Civic Ferio SiR.
You might know a bit about it having read the progress of the old girl and the hiccups, pain and rain that the Civic brought along in just one year. Written breakdowns, unspoken costs, daily compromises and occasional clashes between driver and passenger about driving habits.
It too has introduced me some joys in life that the Lotus cannot or haven’t fulfilled then. DIY work, body modifications, memorabilia collections, detailing expenses… its simultaneously presented to me what I find enjoyable and allowed a more free ownership experience than the Lotus could – where legislation proved hardy and cost is a larger worry.
After a few extra bits and pieces added, its now just a bit more at home than before. I missed out on many things to perfect it just a bit more: a double-din console for RM300, original Honda Access floor mats for RM360, replacement seats to replace the driver seat tear and rusted passenger seat rails and a little more – I can maybe fulfill them next time.
And I suppose the best is my own handiwork via repainting the valve cover for the first time when I couldn’t get a good scrapegoat piece in time. Scared I was, and too harsh was I on the process because I expected myself to do a perfect job with similar perceived expectations from those closer to me, but imperfect as it is, its good enough.
That should always be the moniker for playing with cars. Its good enough. I’m one that has been brainwashed by social media, strangers and friends with larger budgets and wiser choices who can do up their cars to be Instagram-worthy work, while I sit and envy, hoping I can eventually bring mine up to their level or get yet another car to rinse and repeat.
Not only is it basically delusional and just me slipping away in my own world, its a relatively toxic way trying to live up to perceived expectations and maintain the envy of looking at the “prettier” lives that other people show.
Considering that I’m writing about it, I’m at least aware of that slippery slope but its absolutely not easy to get out of it. I think this text is likely alien to you assuming you are over the age of 30 – I think its an increasingly common issue that my generation is experiencing.
The comparison does hit too close to home sometimes. I’ve contemplated selling both the Elan and Civic (the Airtrek too), yet they all remain because I couldn’t see a good enough reason to part with them. Perhaps I am too emotionally attached and can accept their flaws at times – or they haven’t become too uneconomical to sustain.
I was handed two opportunities that needed me to sell the Lotus to buy two of my childhood dream cars: one a Singaporean Daihatsu Charade GTti for the same depreciation figure, and a Malaysian Honda Civic Type R (EK9) for RM105,000. A wise man would have taken either opportunity, but I am no wise man – not yet a man, even. No, not a gender change, some other metric I hold myself up to.
With such a immovable appreciation (some call it sunken cost fallacy) for the three cars that I own / co-own (Airtrek falls in the latter), I struggle seeing a way out of any of them that won’t be dreadfully painful. I’ve gotten way more emotionally attached to these humdrum classics than any insurance payout could match, all three having made their specifically-shaped holes in my heart. Time will tell whether I ever enter anything of higher status or faster or more socially accepted, but any of these cars leaving will be sheer heartpain.
So far, the Elan has stuck around to introduce new events and new people, whilst the Airtrek and Civic have both accommodated our largest friend group gathering overseas that we’ll likely have in years. The Elan has three more years of her life in Singapore before uncertain death or relocation. The Civic and Trek are likely not permanent members even if I would want to keep the Honda.
Doom and gloom aside, the Elan and Civic seem to have shown what companionship is before I enter the world of dating (and probably giving up).
Feriko is a younger match – partying, noisy and brash, open to stupid decisions including modifications, driving habits and mistakes. It still remains as the boy-racer companion, both community and vitality.
Elanmi fulfills a honeymoon phase with one foot deep in responsibility and the other about to follow suit. Its a two-seater with zero way to (legally) hold a family, whose driving and ownership experience commands deliberation – very direct, and very apprehensive towards fussy mods. No more playing around even if her owner still wants to, so to speak.
Trek is generally just pain we hardly talk about, the car that showed the realities of owning a classic before the others would. To date, its the car with the most amount of repair work done to it as a whole. It has been nothing but sobering to hear what breaks and what it needs, either parts or cost.
I won’t be seeing Feriko and Trek as often as I have this year (please do not make this grounds to come find my car). I will miss the Civic given its unique character compared to other cars – 2+2 semi-bucket seats, torque-happy engine, the DIY sessions, the higher rate of arguments with family about driving habits and the local mountain runs (and limps).
I’d like to address more improvements next time: redoing the lace seat covers, adjusting my accelerator pedal (seems positioned too forward, can’t heel-toe), fixing the gauge cluster, replacing the front bumper, replacing or repairing my seats, then repairing and respraying the body.
These oldies compared to newer cars that I’ve driven really resonate with some essence that’s hard to explain. Its like a soul, seriously – none are perfect but happy to walk with its custodian for as long as possible. The fights happen – breakdowns, dissatisfaction, tears within. But they brought us along. Difficult journeys. Driving with tears. Driving broken. They were all always there, whether it was the car or the driver having problems.
None of them are perfect and faultless, but they aren’t any different from their driver. Perhaps that is where the connection lies and how I’ve grown fond of them. Unlike new cars that are so devoid and masked of flaws and therefore lifeless, these old cars… no idea. Maybe its simply awkward romanticisation with no real love story at all.
Gallery:
Read more: Feriko: Painting my valve cover
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