Reporter’s Notebook -- Paul Clinton

Stepping into a 2000 Mitsubishi Eclipse last week might be the

greatest thing I’ve ever done.

OK, so that’s overstating it. The greatest thing was meeting my

fiancee. But the new car is right up there.

You see, I’ve had a thorn in my side since August 2000. The thorn’s

name -- 1991 Honda Prelude. I’m not here to rip the car; Hondas are

dependable.

But back on that sweltering August day, I may have made the biggest

mistake of my life (though I haven’t quite been able to come to grips

with it until now).

After my muted-silver 1994 Eclipse came face-to-inverted-hood with a

Long Beach telephone pole, I hit the street for a used car.

Cerritos. Long Beach. Lakewood. I scoured the area for a cheap car. A

used car lot popped into my sight line on a drive through Garden Grove,

ironically dubbed by the city fathers the “City of Youth and Ambition.”

In my case, the ambition to find a good car for a bargain-basement

price was pure youthful fantasy.

The guy who sold me the car should have set off alarms in my head. He

wore one of those overly cheery Hawaiian print shirts and spoke with the

gravelly, wasted voice of a hardened chain-smoker.

Was it just me, or was he sporting a Navy tattoo and prison-yard

suntan? The guy carried himself with some clear social unease, almost as

if he had spent some time away from society.

Anyway, he sold me the Prelude for about $4,500. Seemed like a deal.

But the problems started almost right after I left the lot. To start

with, I sideswiped a metal pole, shattering the red, plastic covering

over the rear brake light.

Then, the car needed a valve job. The air-conditioning blew cold for

about two minutes, then only blew hot air. The master cylinder was bad.

The tape deck started chewing up my cherished copy of “Ride the

Lightning.” The bent radio antenna stopped receiving an AM signal.

There were other repairs too numerous to mention. And after a year and

a half, my wallet was about $3,500 lighter.

So last week, I finally decided to stop the madness.

With the help of the chaps at Costa Mesa Mitsubishi, I’m driving a

gorgeous purplish-blue Eclipse. And it only has 14,000 miles.

Instead of dumping a couple hundred into the Prelude almost every

month, I can put it toward the Eclipse. As much as I liked seeing Chris

at Belmont Auto, it will be nice to see the repair bills subside.

The Eclipse even has a year left on the warranty.

For me, the lesson was this: If the deal seems too good to be true,

it’s probably not a deal at all.

It was one of those life lessons I’ll never forget.

* Paul Clinton covers the environment, John Wayne Airport and

politics. He may be reached at (949) 764-4330 or by e-mail ato7

paul.clinton@latimes.comf7 .