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Every car nut wants everyone around them to enjoy cars as much as they do especially close family members. Spouses are tough because they usually have their interests firmly implanted before you arrive. It's tough to convert a gardener or gourmet cook into a track junkie or a beach person into an ice racer. With kids you have a better shot. You can take them to events and even if they only play in the pits or lean on the concourse cars at least they begin to learn that cars can be something besides a transport appliance. That's not to say that every kid will inherit the car gene but at least you'll have something to teach until they get to those rebellious teenage years when you can't do anything right. That's when even being in the same room with you causes discomfort (or worse).Then there's that period when you can be useful, like provide a ride to the mall ("drop me off at the rear entrance, you don't have to get out"), or fix a broken taillight ("I just noticed it, it must have happened in a parking lot when someone else had the car").Eventually they get old enough to realize that cars can be fun and while it might not be their idea of fun at least they start to see your point of view. My oldest daughter, Kerry, caught on early and seemed to enjoy the car activities in the family. That was until teenage boys began to get driver’s licenses and her hormone level got to the point where even a Gremlin looked good if a 19 year old boy was driving it. When it came time to get her a car she was fine with the approach that I used back then. That was, start every kid out with junk since they were going to crash it anyway. They might as well crash a $100 car as a $5000 car as they learned where the corners were on their ride. Kerry started out with a nice little white VW beetle from the west coast. It had four speeds, drum brakes, a sunroof and of course a radio. It didn't take long and it needed a nose job. Something about the car in front of her stopped too quickly. No matter, off to the salvage yard to get two fenders and a hood. We couldn't find a white one so she had to settle for orange. I watched and provided tools as she dismantled the car. Actually she did a pretty good job and the white car looked custom with an orange nose. That car went off to a new home at some point and was replaced with another beetle that was found in a driveway in Norwood. Bought new by a schoolteacher, it was parked when the electronic fuel injection went south 10 years in and her local garage couldn't keep it running. The teachers answer was to go out and buy a new car leaving the beetle blocking the garage door where it died the month before. She wouldn't sell it to me but when I sent Kerry over to inquire it was quickly sold to a needy college student. Another engine was transplanted from a friends rusty hulk that was on its way to the junkyard and bada-bing, a new ride was on the road. Air cooled VW's became water cooled rice burners and after a Toyota Celica and a Honda, Kerry was wise in the ways of cars and the fun they could be. My son's starter set turned out to also be a VW and the slowest car on the planet, an automatic diesel Rabbit. At least it had heat and a radio, the latter being of utmost importance to a teenage boy. I got the car from a friend of a friend at a dinner party the day before it was going off to the junkyard. This was a true $100 car that ran fine and clearly didn't need full insurance coverage. In fact, in case of an accident the instructions were to take off the license plate and walk home. Things were a lot simpler back then. That car was so slow I could run down the driveway faster that Rob could drive off the property. I'm sure that the Rabbit is one of the reasons that the cars he's bought himself have always been the fastest models available. And all that noise and smell kept him from sneaking in late at night. There was not a lot of concern about his friends all piling in the car as most of them wouldn't ride in it. As I remember it was brown in color and certainly earned the name that you can guess it was given. Soon enough he came home one night with the plate in his hand and a story about how a tree had jumped out and bit the Rabbit on a dirt road two towns over. Why is it that these things never happen during daylight hours and closer to home? Since our luck was running so well we stepped up to a much faster car in the VW stable, another Rabbit but a four speed without the oil burner engine. What an improvement, the zero to sixty time was under 20 seconds and there was no cloud following the car like Pigpen. This silver beauty was a four door and most of it was the same color silver too. It was a little noisy as it had already covered almost 200k on the original engine, no need for full insurance on this rat. As I recall this car also met an untimely demise as it lost a couple of gears (the important ones like third and fourth) and was driven slowly to the yard of last resort, the junkyard. Kerry had left college and the state in a Honda Accord scooped from a new car buyer before he traded it in and was out of the automotive scene. Rob, on the other hand, got more into cars as they got faster and better looking, and profitable. We started going to the monthly auction run by the Boston police. They auctioned off cars that had been towed off the street and not claimed after thirty days. There were actually some decent cars but not without risk. When a car gets towed they never get the keys so when you bid on the car at the auction it's without knowing if it even runs. Very exciting. The crowed always cheered when one of the cars fired up after purchase. There was a locksmith there that would cut a key in few minutes for the new owner. We got a couple of BMWs, a couple of Toyotas, some Nissans, even a very clean '68 Nash Rambler station wagon from Florida (in triple green - what a car). I told Rob that if the Rambler he bought (for $168) didn't run he could live in it. Well it was one of only two that we ever bought that didn't start up but he got out of it with a profit without ever getting it running. The only guy in America that had a Rambler collection and didn't have a wagon, lived in Worcester, and saw his ad in the Want Advertiser. He showed up in a flash and the big green machine was gone. The car gene was clearly present in Rob and is to this day. Great fun to watch too! As the band said, it's been a strange and wonderful ride, and it just keeps getting better. KTF! |
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