Who woulda thunk 2002s could generate so much emotion more than 30 years after they appeared? We feel pride, affection, enthusiasm and myriad other emotions when we look at and drive our boxy little cars, but the responses don't stop with the owners - oh no! Spouses and significant others of 2002 owners often feel just as strongly about the cars as their loved ones.

For instance, Langley Thomson and Roger McDorman of Savannah, Georgia, own an agave '70. Langley says, "So much emotion is wrapped up in the 2002. It's a little frightening, and I wonder if there are other cars - like breeds of dogs -- that people are so rabid about. I just don't think that classic Mustangs evoke such passion."

Emotional connections
Mary Delk of Texarkana, Texas, considers the first 2002 to enter her life a member of the family. She and Robert bought an orange '72 Touring in 1975 before going to Germany for military duty. They took the car with them during that three-year stint of service.

"We've got pictures of our two older kids standing in front of the BMW in Germany in front of big buildings - so yeah, it's part of the family," Mary says. "When we had to sell it in 1986, that was a traumatic thing for the family -- it really was strange, but it was. When we bought it back three years ago, it was kinda like 'the long-lost kid has come home.'"

Langley says she also considers the car a part of the family. "We discuss the car frequently (but at odd times like over dinner or while grocery shopping) as if it were our troubled teenager and the debate is whether or not to seek counseling for it."

On the other hand, Victoria Wilson of Bryan/College Station, Texas, feels ambivalent about Milton's project car. "It's not really mine to enjoy, but I'm glad Milton has an outlet, something that gives him so much pleasure. He loves to work with his hands, loves challenges and solving problems. His car offers him all of these things. As far as I can tell, his project this summer of installing an engine was nirvana for him."

First impressions
"Ugly" is how Jeff Charnley of Leslie, Michigan, describes the car that caught Marie's attention. "Grass was lapping at the undersides as it sat motionless as an oversized pale blue lawn ornament in the front yard of an nearby lake cottage. It caught my eye first, but I didn't say a word, hoping my wife wouldn't see it. But she did."

"As long as Marie doesn't expect me to fix anything on it, we remain enthusiastic about it. It's undergoing my kind of car restoration; she had it towed on a flat bed truck to a fine import auto repair shop. There, the proposed repairs will multiply the total cost of the car by 800 percent! I am looking forward to driving this classic BMW."

Langley felt more than hesitant when she first saw Roger's "new" car as he picked her up from the airport in Boston. "It was really depressing. It had a sticky steering wheel that left black crusty residue on your hands and seats so contorted and that elicited so much pain, I am convinced they lived a former life in a Third World torture chamber."

When Langley's car died, she and Roger relied completely on the 2002 and she developed respect for it. "It didn't have the cosmetic charm, but it definitely was a workhorse," she says. "I adore the car now. Preserved within its worn door panels, cracked dash and crooked seats are all the hopes and dreams we had when we were dirt poor and desperate."

Even though Mary thought the 2002 body style was cute when she and Robert first considered purchasing one, she didn't let the looks overwhelm her sense of practicality. "We looked at the 2002 when our first child was about 3 months old," she says. "I thought, 'Gosh, I can get a big station wagon for the same price as this little bitty car!' I hate to admit that, but that's what I thought.

"Guess what we got - the station wagon," Mary says. "When we saw this little one (before going to Germany), he had his second chance at a BMW, so we got that and sold my big station wagon."

Victoria thought Milton's 2002 was really cute when she first saw it. "I liked the lines, the chrome, the preppiness of it. After Milton ripped the chrome off, I abdicated any aesthetic relationship to his car. Since this abdication, Milton has taken the front bumper off, stripped the original paint and painted it with a flat black paint."

The car's role in the household
At this point, Victoria says, "I try to minimize my relationship to his car as much as possible. As part of my duties of being a wife <smile> I feel a moral obligation to ask about any project of more than 12 hours. He'll tell me

"As part of my duties of being a wife <smile> I feel a moral obligation to ask about any project of more than 12 hours." - Victoria Wilson

what he did, and I'll 'ooh' and 'aah,' which will be followed by a test drive that usually involves a curvy road."

The 2002 plays a large role in Jeff and Marie's life in that "she spends much time on the computer on eBay, looking for parts for the 2002!"

While Mary and Robert's orange Touring is still in the family, it's not alone. There are six BMWs total in front of the house: five 2002s and a 1600. "He has his own little fleet," Mary says. "Is my husband a car person? Yes. Do I care? No, as long as the thing starts and it goes where I need it to go, that's fine."

Langley has discovered two perks about the 2002's role in the family: "If he is avoiding discussing some issue plaguing our lives, there is no better time to talk to him than while he is working on the car - essentially trapped and able to do something with his hands. And I would rather he spend money on this car than on something truly intangible and ridiculous like golf."

Practical advice
Jeff suggests that spouses and significant others "take up fly fishing and travel to the wilderness to regain your peace of mind while you await the arrival of the 2002 (and the final bill) from the repair shop!"

Similarly, Victoria feels it's best to remain largely unaware of the financial consequences of 2002 ownership. "As part of a

"Make peace with the car, as it could easily become your best friend and ally." - Langley Thomson

'graduate-student' household (we're both Ph.D. students), I think one of my largest issues is money. I don't know if post-school, I will mind the money funneled to Milton's 'other woman' as much.

"I partly have a 'don't ask, don't tell' agreement going on," Victoria says. "Warning signs - such as too many boxes coming from UPS or the car being nondrivable for too long - signal a need for a violation of that law ('Lucy, you got some 'splaining to do!'). Basically, the fact that I'm in love with Milton saves his ass 98.6 percent of the time."

Mary suggests learning to just deal with a car's (or cars') presence in your life. "Often people will say, 'How can you stand all these cars?' And I'll say, 'As long as he's with a car, he's not at a bar and he's not with other women.' He's dedicated to his cars, so I've learned to deal with that. I don't say anything bad about the cars, and they don't say anything bad about me." Langley offers a long list of tips:

1. Make peace with the car, as it could easily become your best friend and ally.
2. Know its color and know the names of at least three other BMW colors from its time.
3. Know the year BMW switched to square taillights.
4. Learn patience with the seatbelts.
5. It is more critical that you know the time of year the car makes the change to one of its three carburetors than why it needs a carburetor at all.
6. Above, all flash your lights when driving - even when your mate is not in the car with you, as the sixth sense is reserved solely for 2002 aficionados - and more importantly, point out an approaching 2002 so your mate can flash first (I have earned many delicious points for this).