A Fun Car Again

“Are you sure?”

I must have asked my wife’s dad that question three or four times before we left San Diego with the Miata.

He had already cleaned the car for us. The paperwork was ready. He had waited until the registration was due before officially handing it over. Still, I wanted to give him every opportunity to change his mind.

He had barely been driving it because the car sits so low to the ground. Other people had offered to buy it, but he was never interested in selling. My wife even offered to purchase it from him herself.

Instead, he decided to give it to us as an early wedding present.

I like to think he wanted the Miata to go to someone who would care for it and genuinely enjoy it. He knows my history with cars and with Miatas specifically. More importantly, he really loves this car. I want to make sure he sees that we love it too.

A Car That Stayed in the Family

The Miata’s history with my wife’s family goes all the way back to the beginning.

Her stepdad purchased it new in 1992, right off the lot. Her biological dad bought it from him in 2016 and used it to commute to work and drive around town.

What made it special to him was simple: it was a manual, it was sporty, it was fun to drive, and—in his own words—it was “cute.”

By the time it came to us, it had spent its entire life within the family.

This wasn’t my first Miata. I rebuilt a 2000 Special Edition NB1 from a shell. I had a 1996 NA8 that I could never quite get running correctly. I also had the pleasure of regularly driving a 2016 ND1 that my old boss purchased as a company car.

But this was my first time driving a largely unmodified NA6 with no power anything.

It felt raw. Slow. Quirky and honestly a little wiggly—like the first draft of a car that would eventually become a cult classic.

The steering wheel was thin. The brakes were a little squeaky. The car smelled strongly enough of oil that I assumed there were leaks waiting for me.

But there’s something about driving a Miata that makes none of that feel particularly discouraging. It felt less like, “Damn, this car needs work,” and more like, “There’s room for improvement.”

My first Miata brought a lot into my life. I made friends, traveled to new places, and learned more than I ever expected to learn from one little car. Every Miata after that became another part of the same journey.

I’m certain this one will be too.

“You Can Still Change Your Mind”

My wife, her dad, her stepmom, and I were all there for the handoff.

As we talked, her dad began asking what I planned to change. He seemed especially attached to the wheels. We later learned that they were accessories my wife’s stepdad had purchased for the car in 1994, giving them more history than we initially realized.

That was slightly awkward because, well, we think they’re ugly.

He seemed surprised when I described how much I eventually wanted to change. I assured him that the car was going to come out great. The goal isn’t to erase what it has been. It’s to take care of it, enjoy it, and build something worthy of the history it already carries.

He handed me the keys, we completed the paperwork, and then we all went to dinner.

Afterward, we dropped them back off at home. I climbed into the Miata, lowered the top, and asked him one last time if he was sure.

He was.

I backed out of the driveway with my wife following in her car, and we started the drive home from San Diego.

The Drive Home

It was nighttime by then.

The Miata felt a little skittish on the freeway, although I hadn’t driven a car without power steering over a long distance in years. I figured part of it was the unfamiliar steering feel and part of it was simply getting used to driving such a small car again.

For the first part of the trip, my wife kept pulling alongside me, smiling and taking pictures.

I pushed the car a little to clear out the cobwebs. It made the drive without much complaint, although the hills on the way home revealed that there was definitely room for improvement in the power department.

The aftermarket radio took me forever to connect to Bluetooth. Once I finally managed that, the blown speakers made the accomplishment feel slightly less meaningful.

Still, it was a nice drive.

When we finally arrived and I parked the Miata for the night, the feeling was surprisingly simple:

I had a fun car again.

The last fun car I owned was my 2005 Honda S2000. I sold it in 2020 for a manual 2005 Subaru Outback XT when I moved to Denver for work. In 2023, I bought an automatic 2009 Acura TSX, and that has been my regular car ever since.

I always wanted something fun again, but life has priorities.

This Miata arrived differently. It wasn’t an impulsive purchase or something I had spent months searching for. It came from family, from someone who loved it, as an early wedding gift for the two of us.

RoadsterThings started as a way to document the car’s journey—and our journey with it—for my wife’s dad. We want him to see where it goes, what changes, and how much it continues to be enjoyed.

Then we figured it might be nice to share that story with the rest of the community too.

So this is where it begins: a 1992 Miata, one nighttime drive home, and a lot of room for improvement.

Most importantly, I have a fun car again.