What Do I Need?

My latest gripe is parked out in my driveway, four wheels of the most insane extravagance ever dreamt of by mankind. The engineers of today's automobiles must be nuts, they surely can't be serious. The features on today's car's have nothing to do with basic transportation, with getting from point A to point B. I'm not saying to remove all features that lead to our comfort, heating necessary, AC can be done without, roll the windows down, fresh air is not a bad thing. And exactly what kind of sound system do I need? I'm not driving my car to listen to music obviously, guess what, I trying to get from point A to point B. Granted some form of entertainment while driving is nice especially on long trips. But I don't need a music system that announces itself from several blocks away with the blaring, thumping nonsense being forced on the surrounding populace by the musically challenged driving these over sized boom-boxes. As I stare at this answer to man's lunacy in automobile manufacturing and my mind wanders to better times, at least in my mind, the year I became part of the motoring public.

Here's my story!! I started driving almost fifty years ago, that should give you an idea of where this is going. Don't get me wrong today's car are far more superior then the car's of fifty or sixty years ago. The reliability is terrific, they actually start and run far more often than in the day's of yore. My first car was bought for twenty-five dollars while I attended high school and worked part-time at a gas station. Let me explain the term gas station for all of you who grew up after the nineteen-seventies. These were not the self serve stop and go deals we have today. Gas stations were actually gas stations, you pulled up to the gas pump, stopped, shut the car off and relaxed. Someone from inside the building came out, greeted you with a smile, imagine a smile, and ask you if they could help you. You told them how much gas you wanted and he, not you, put the gas in the car. After that, it only gets better, he asks if he could check under the hood. Check the oil, check the water in the radiator, minor things that keep the car running. By the way this service was free, the service attendant did this all for nothing, as a compliment for buying gas from him.

Now that that's out of the way let me explain my diatribe on today's car's. My twenty-five dollar car was a nineteen- fifty one Chevy, I see one now and then at vintage car shows and parading on the streets, brings back fond memories. My interest in cars started early in my life and by the time I was sixteen I was hooked to the motoring public. While attending high school I managed to get a part-time job in a gas station, I worked after school and on weekends. My job was to pump gas as it was called at the time. A patron would pull his car up to the pump and I would go out, rain or shine, snow or heat of summer and take care of his motoring needs, gas, check the engine for any problems. All this with a smile on my face or I would face the wrath of my boss, and yes, the customer would complain if service was not prompt and courteous. The gas station I worked at was actually a large garage that worked on cars with more severe maladies, engine work, tire repair, things of that nature. The station was a larger building and employed three mechanics. This is where my mechanical abilities and car ownership come into being.

Now comes the part of my first car and my gripe about the technological wonder sitting in my driveway today. After working at the gas station for a few months my boss was satisfied with my work and took me under his wing, so to speak and began teaching me in the field of auto mechanics. He took notice of my interest in cars, when not pumping gas and waiting on customers I would wander into the garage and assist the mechanic's where they needed help. All this happened in the early sixties when cars were basic transportation, the mechanics of the car was easy to understand, no computers to tell you what was wrong or what to check. That's another thing that drives me over the edge, a car telling me that my tires need air, I'm not blind, I can see a tire that looks like it's getting flat. I guess that's the trouble with old people, they don't like to have their intelligence insulted. But I digress, let me get back to my first car and the good old day's.

Since my boss, the owner of the gas station knew that I had a drivers license he felt I needed a car, this is where the twenty-five dollar Chevy comes into my ownership. The car was a donation to the owner of the station when the repairs needed to maintain the car in running condition exceeded the value of the car to the owner. The car was then abandoned to the back of the building where it sat for a couple of months. One Saturday afternoon, business was slow and my boss never at a loss to find something to keep me busy told me to bring the old car around to the front and pull it inside the garage. Once inside the garage, the hood open, my boss with sleeves rolled up and wrenches in hand began to breathe new life into the car. I helped where needed, puzzled by all of this After a few hours of labor, the work completed, the Chevy sprung to life, running as good as new, will in my opinion anyway.

Standing for a moment, staring at the smooth running engine a smile appears on my bosses face and he closes the hood and asks what do I think. A lost look appears on my face and I ask what, what do I think about what. Twenty-five dollars and it's yours his answer to my question. In a state of shock I muttered okay, and somewhat unknowingly I bought my first car. It's a deal he says, now get YOUR car out of my garage it's done. WOW, I thought to myself, I just bought a car, a high school kid, is now a car owner. Again, things were different then, no consent, now consumer protection, just simple times. Still in a state of shock, I stumbled around to the drivers side, opened the door and climbed in behind the wheel. A feeling of pride came over me, it's hard to explain, but I felt I was in control of my life, I owned two tons of stuff, this possession of mine took up space, it somewhat expressed to the public that I mattered. I was no longer relegated to the pedestrian traffic of the side walks nor honked at while bicycling on the streets.

For the car, my Chevy, it defies comparison of anything on the road today. From the moment I backed the car out of the garage I knew that my brief education in the field of auto mechanics was going to be put to the test. The car itself was basic transportation, very basic!! Then, I didn't need a computer to tell me to check the engine oil or change it, check the tire pressure or that a door was open. I laugh today when a light on the dashboard, at least that's what we called it way back then, now it's called a message control center, that the door is ajar, I'm sure I can tell when the door is open without a computer warning me of such a situation. As far as repairs to today's cars a computer must be plugged into the computer of my car and they talk to each other and discuss the problems of my afflicted car. I don't know if I care to have two computers discussing the problems of my car and not knowing what they're talking about especially where my billfold is involved.

As a matter of fact, anything beyond basic driving, I don't need cruise control, AC, speed check, gas mileage monitor, or whether it's raining outside, there's automatic windshield wipers on today's car's, that sense moisture on the windshield and the wipers come on. Imagine an old person driving the car and a little moisture on the windshield and the wipers come on, there's an accident in the making, catching the driver by surprise. To me, at my age now, sixty plus my only interest is to get where I'm going as safely as possible. The seat belt by law, and the basic components to get moving is all I need.

After my boss got the car running he guaranteed it would start and run, everything else was up to me. It was up to me to see that it was running with all the necessary features, lights, tires, brakes were my responsibility, this is where my auto abilities learned paid off. After several weeks of ownership, I discovered the most important part of the car was a well equipped tool box in the trunk and a few extra parts for the necessary road side repairs, broken fan belt, various other parts that would effect a temporary repair to get me home. In short I became quite skilled at making these repairs, it was a matter of necessity, again this was the sixties and cell phones were a long way off. There was no Lo-Jack, no GPS no way of getting help and traveling between cities one ventured into the country at your own risk, sometimes farms were far and few between. If you broke down in the country you either sat and waited for another motorist or walked to a hopefully nearby farm for aid.

As I sit here staring or for want of a better word glaring at my recent purchase I do appreciate all the comforts that were built into today's cars. The new technologies that make our present day transportation more user-friendly and with the advent of the cell phone getting stranded anywhere is virtually impossible. But it seems to me they have taken the very soul out of the new car. In the sixties, the driver of the car had a responsibility to make sure that the passengers arrived at their destination in good order, and when the car did break down along the hi-way the driver jumped to the task at hand and once the problem was discerned and solved and the driver and the passengers were under way again the driver instantly became the hero of the day. By the same token if someone was broke down along the way a motorist would stop and lend a helping hand, either repairing or at least giving a ride to the nearest town. Today by simply pressing a button on the message control center, a voice immediately comes from somewhere in the dashboard from some customer service center and will summon help for you. Amazing, truly amazing.

By and large it's not new car versus old but new technology versus old people from another era. Old people, or for want of a friendlier phrase, people of advanced years and new technology do not mix, at least, for the majority of us. Accepted, some of us elders embrace the new technology, but me, for the most part, I appreciate some of the old ways. In a way the car defined the person, more or less, if you could work on your car you were elevated to the position of mechanic and revered in your neighborhood. If someone needed help getting their car started or running you were the person to go see, a little boost to the ego for the neighborhood mechanic or as they were called, shade tree mechanics, another term that is lost in time.

Simple defined the term shade tree mechanic found its way into the English language because of an individual repairing cars in his back under the shade of a tree. Again, the good old day's. Today, lifting the hood takes a manual and several minutes of feeling under the hood for the latch. I can sit here and romanticize about the past and cars of fifty or sixty years ago but have to admit that those day's are gone but not forgotten. They are still fond memories for me.