What Drives Us
Becky and I have put about 7,000 miles on our 2017 Subaru on The Row House Road Show so far.
Though we are excellent travel companions, it’s been nice to continue my study leave here at home.
I’ve been laying low, occasionally turning my head while writing to catch an orange downpour of autumn leaves outside my library window.
I did manage to fly to North Carolina for a week; Not on my own, I assure you. I hired an airline.
Here’s my dispatch from that journey.
We won’t be going out on the road until mid-February, but I may be flying somewhere warm in January just to rub it in y’all’s faces who live in Pennsylvania.
In the meantime, I will offer a four-part home dispatch on a subject near and dear to my heart (which includes a fair amount of heartburn): The Car.
It’s a curriculum I’ve studied, if studied means ate, slept, and breathed since my childhood.
Hot Desire
In the 90’s, Becky and I attended a young adult gathering in our church. Our host issued an ice breaker: Write down every automobile brand you can think of in one minute.
Becky and I were in a group with another couple, and she looked at me as if to say,
“Run the table, Tom.”
I let the group venture some guesses like the predictable Ford and Buick.
After about 30 seconds of casually tossing up an Oldsmobile or GMC, I couldn’t contain myself. The other three were sputtering. I opened the throttle.
I was still spinning out brands from Edsel to Morgan to Yugo when the ref blew the whistle.
Our team won. As Billie Eilish put it so it magisterially,
Duh.
The Die Was Cast
I blame Hot Wheels for that tiny victory.
When the tiny metal “toys” turned 50 in 2018, Autoweek1 featured an article on their indelible influence on a host of American kids.
As Late Boomers, my pals and I were target audience numero uno.
Thus began my fascination with car design, culture, and things with wheels.
That unmistakable enamel on metal still stops me in my shoes in the aisles of Giant.
Sweet Sixteen
If a fifteen year old in Watsontown were to be anything less than inflamed with passion for their driver’s license, that person would’ve been drawn and quartered with ridicule.
I was jonesing for the open road, of course, but I had the advantage of “field car” experience at our Christmas tree farm.2
To ready me for my permit, Dad also allowed me to drive our 1978 Plymouth Horizon around our large, inclined driveway so I could master the clutch.
“You drive just like Steve McQueen, man,” I said to myself, quoting a Cheech and Chong skit.3
Wheelin’ In The Years
In the early 90’s Becky and I owned a suburban house with ample driveway and lawn space. By the time we down-sized to move to our seminary apartment in St. Louis, I had beautified our property with five vehicles:
Our daily driver 1987 VW Vanagon, a rolling classic even at the time
The dearly beloved 1983 Subaru GL Wagon 4X4 that we sold to a Bucknell student and wish we never had
A 1965 Corvair Monza sedan (not yet totally road worthy; it went for repairs at The Corvair Ranch in New Oxford, PA)
Jonathan’s 1972 Cougar XR7 convertible that I was storing for him in our garage while he resided in London. I was permitted to drive it!
A 1969 Ford Falcon my dad whimsically “picked up for ya at the auction” because, well, think about whose Dad he is.
Weird Wheels
These days, we live in a walk-able setting and work mostly from home. So, I find myself conveyed on two wheels: My bikes or a Honda Scooter.
This is not an unwilling trade-off, as I’ll explain in further dispatches.
Mercifully for Becky, our row house in the city puts a limit on my junkyard dreams.
Nonetheless, my growing stable of wheeled conveyances might even make (Kan)Ye jealous:
A custom-painted Huffy Green Machine
The unicycle my son-in-law lovingly conferred on me
A rotating cast of vintage bikes for buy-and-sell
Outdoor Saucony roller skates, home-made
And an Amish push scooter is in my future. I can feel it.
The Price Is Right?
In Part 2 of I Luv Car, I’ll take a stab at weighing the merits of automobiles with the price they exact on our lives, sometimes literally.
In Parts 2 and 3, we’ll take a cruise back into the ancient history of wheeled conveyance, what it means for us today, and where it could take us next.
This venerable magazine finally succumbed to the print plague a few years back, but its assets were folded into the portfolio of Hearst Magazines, the owner of Car & Driver and Road & Track. It was the go-to publication for racing news, emerging car culture, and transit history. My friend Neil subscribed, and every several months I’d receive a download of them in my mail slot on College Ave. Now he drops off the aforementioned titles, and I remain grateful.
Field car=A $50 1965 Chevy Corvair my dad picked up a repair shop. We got it home to realize its engine was in the rear, where it should be. Thus began my lifelong dedication to the little car that could if only Ralph Nader and the Ford Mustang hadn’t bullied it into oblivion.
Kids are still quoting lines, though the medium has changed. We sat on the floors of our bedrooms, attending to LP’s spinning out the wisdom of Steve Martin, George Carlin, and the aforementioned Cheech & Chong.