FIRST CAR

FIRST CAR
There is no doubt that Americans have a love affair with the cars. Regardless of what any of us are driving today, we can all fondly remember our very first car.(perhaps this story will bring back memories of your own first car) As I think back, I can remember waiting with great anticipation for the moment that I could speed away without my parents in my own car. A car represented much more than just simple transportation, it represented freedom. I had gotten a taste of the “good life” while driving with a few of my slightly older friends that already had the good fortune of getting their license.
As the big day for my drivers permit approached, I was already day dreaming of driving. I can remember sitting in class, staring out the window, and listening to the drone of my teacher’s voice. My young mind would drift off as I watched the traffic pass by the school. I was mesmerized by the thought of unrestricted travel. I soon would be able to go anywhere I wanted, and when I wanted, in the comfort and style of my own car. In my mind, walking was highly over rated.
Perhaps I would get a Cadillac, Corvette, or a Mercedes. Maybe I could even talk Dad into getting me a convertible. My vivid imagination envisioned me racing by in a sports car convertible with my sunglasses gleaming and my hair blowing in the wind. I would slow down when I passed the school to make sure that all my friends could get a glimpse of me in my new ride. There would be no more sitting home in boredom for me.
Having my own car would open new adventures and possibilities to me. I could easily visit friends, go to the beach, travel to distant places and even take girls to the drive in movie. I glanced over at Carolyn, the hottest girl in the class and gave her a knowing wink. Even though she had not paid me a lot of attention up to this point, I felt certain that she would swoon, when I offered her a ride in my new sports car.
My daydreams were usually interrupted by the teacher calling my name and asking me to repeat what was just said. Of course I didn’t know and didn’t care, it was like being in love. In just a few short days I would finish driver education with the high school football coach as teacher and one of those weird cars with two steering wheels and two sets of foot pedals. I had driven the coach without incident, endless times around the parking lot and also to his bank, dry cleaners, and favorite lunch spots. It was clear, I was ready for Indy. Soon I would possess that small piece of paper that meant freedom. I would join the ranks and fellowship of legal drivers.
Well, soon the big day came and I passed my driving test with ease (ok..maybe I had a little trouble with parallel parking and I forgot to turn my turn signal off for 10 minutes..but I passed).
With my newly issued learner’s permit in hand I was ready to conquer the road., Just like some ancient ritual of passage that marked my coming of age, I had now joined the ranks of the adult world..Today I could drive, today I was a man.
Fortunately for me, it was Friday afternoon and that meant one thing..the whole weekend to perfect my driving game and be seen by all my friends. I was certain that today would be the last day that I would have to ride the bus home with all the other… “non-drivers”.
I had rehearsed this moment in my mind a thousand times. I felt reasonably confident that when the bus dropped me off in front of my house, I would receive my just reward for being such an outstanding driver and son. I knew I could count on old dad to remember the many hints and discussions we had about the type and color of sports car that I would prefer. I had even left a few car magazines conspicuously open around the house that morning as a refresher course on my new car preferences.
I was tingling with anticipation as the bus rounded the final corner from my home. My face was pressed up against the window as I practiced the surprised look that I would show my parents when they handed me the keys to my new set of wheels.
I can remember jumping down all three stairs of the bus and dropping my backpack in total surprise. For a moment, I stood there in shock as the bus door closed behind me and pulled off. I looked up the driveway and much to my surprise; the only car parked there was my mother’s old Dodge Dart (with the push button transmission).
There must be some mistake. Perhaps the bus had dropped me off at the wrong address. There was no new car, no giant red ribbon, and no eager parents, marching band, or well wishers there to greet me in a triumphant return from my driving test.
As I recall it took a day or two for the shock and full weight of the disappointment to set in. There would be no new car, no leather driving gloves, no dice hanging from the rear view mirror, and no shot at impressing my beloved Carolyn.
It was at that point that I learned that reality can be very humbling. My mom would be willing to drive with me on my learners permit, but she needed the car for her own use. She couldn’t part with it so that I could drive it to school (we actually tried one day, but I was so embarrassed, having to pull up and then have to hand the keys to my mother as she gave me a peck on the check in front of all the boys.) Over the next few weeks and months I bugged mom and dad for the opportunity to drive any chance I could get. Thinking back they were very gracious about spending the time with me, but I could never quite get them to match my enthusiasm for just “going for a ride”. They allowed me to chauffer them around for all their meetings, appointments, and shopping trips, and sometimes just to drive aimlessly for the fun of it.
I waited anxiously for the rest of the year until I was able to get my regular drivers license and actually take the car out on my own. I think it is a pivotal moment in a parent’s life the first time their child drives off on his or her own and leaves the parent there waving at the curb. (maybe they are just worried that the car may get scratched) It was also my first experience in paying to fill up the car. I could tell right away that this would not be my favorite part of the whole driving experience.(and it still is not today)
The young guy at the gas station would give me advice on how impress the girls with my automotive prowess. Always open the door for them, make sure you leave the car running if you have to go into the store for a few minutes, crack the window a little (or was that advice for when you had the dog in the car).
For me, it was several years latter before I got the chance to own my own car, and it was not exactly the thoroughbred that I had always imagined. Instead I bought an Old Camero, a muscle car, with a huge engine and extra wide rear tires, it was love at first sight. The fuel mileage was terrible and it pulled to the right, but I could win a race with most of the cars on the street. My parents had urged me to buy a dependable car like a Volkswagen, but I had other ideas.(after all..I knew best..right) It was my hard earned money and I was going to get exactly what I wanted ( or at least what I wanted, that was in my very meager price range).
When I had finally saved up enough money to buy my own first car, I guess I was too excited and bought the first car I looked at. I had zero mechanical knowledge (some things never change) and made the purchase without consulting a mechanic. Maybe during the test drive, I should have noticed the smoke coming from the exhaust, the squeaky brakes, or the tires rubbing the wheel wells when I went around a corner. Not to mention the near bald tires and missing engine mount. I found out that buying your first car is very much like falling in love the first time. For me, excitement took over where logic should have prevailed. The first car is after all a very emotional purchase.
Well, as luck would have it, I learned a very costly lesson and I spent more time under the hood than in the driver seat. In the end I was the proud owner of several more used cars before I finally purchased my first new car.
Well, I’ve had many new cars since then, and I still let my emotions interfere when I get the bug for a new car. There is something about the smell and feel of a brand new car that quickens my heart. There are so many new buttons to push and gadgets to work. Our cars are almost like a statement about ourselves. I always bargain with the dealer before I buy, but once I get in the frenzy I know deep down that I won’t walk away. I’m driving a much nicer ride these days, but there will always be a special place in my heart for my first car.
Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com
P.I.B.

GO NUKE

GO NUKE

I don’t know about you, but I’m sick and tired of our country being dependent on foreign sources for oil and energy. I guess it’s largely our own fault, mainly because of our hundred year romance with the internal combustion engine. Four cylinder, 6 cylinder, 8 or 12, gas or diesel, they all burn a petroleum based fuel.

I guess I wouldn’t feel as strongly about this, if I felt we did not have an alternative, but we do. Auto makers are only recently beginning to produce cars driven by battery, plant based fuels, synthetic fuel, and now hydrogen. We have the technology; we just haven’t been willing to pay the price.

As strange as it may seem, at least one automaker, had their design team working on an alternative as early as 1958. It was an exciting time as commercial engineers raced to harness the incredible power and energy of the nuclear reaction, that had already been weaponized a few years earlier. Ford motor company had design plans for the first nuclear propelled car, the Ford Nucleon. It looked like a futuristic cross between a space ship and the Bat mobile, with the power source in the rear, nestled between out swept wings. The designers envisioned a passenger automobile based on the same, then emerging technology, that powered the first nuclear submarine, just a smaller version. It was a brave new world, and the genie had been let out of the bottle. Nuclear power was here to stay, and big corporations and manufactures were all too happy to jump on the band wagon and capitalize of this revolutionary and seemingly limitless source of power.

The nuclear core would fuel the car for approximately 5,000 miles of use and then simply be exchanged for a new one, at a type of high tech gas station. (sign reads: Tires, repairs, convenience items, and Nuclear Core replacements)

When they first came out in very limited quantities they were very expensive. Well my Dad, being the techie that he was back then, just had to have one, so he put a second mortgage on the house and plunked down the cash at the local Ford dealer, making him one of the first to own the new technology. I guess he was some what of a visionary back then because he knew that the price of gasoline probably would be heading north of .25 cents a gallon, sometime in the future and he’d have none of that nonsense. To be honest, I don’t think he ever really understood the dynamics that made the car go, but that sucker ran without making nay noise and had tons of wheel spinning horsepower. I think he was pulled over on the turnpike one day doing “Mach One”. In fact, I never got the chance to attend college because Dad is still making payments on the ticket and still trying to get the points off his license. (I think it was a $15.00 ticket plus one dollar for every mile per hour over 40.)

Well, that car took some getting used to, and caused quite a stir in the old neighborhood. Everyone else was driving early Chevy’s and Oldsmobile’s, but our car looked like something from “Back to the Future”. Dad, would take it out of the garage and wash it nearly every day just to show off to the neighbors. That old car took about 45 minutes to warm up and get the reaction going before you could take it out for a spin, making it impractical to use for a quick run down to the corner store for some milk. Dad being the eternal optimist(and cheap skate) that he was, would leave the car running all night long in the garage and figured out a way to hook the car’s jumper cables to our breaker box and we had all the free heat and electric we could use.

We all looked forward to the weekends because Dad would have the car fired up and ready to roll by 8am on Saturday morning. We’d all pile in the car and off we’d go. I think it gave Dad a certain sense of satisfaction as we’d pass gas station after gas station, as he’d count off the miles we had left until the car would need a fresh power source ( only 4,890 miles left before we have to stop he’d say).

Well I’m sad to say that we ended up selling that old car a few years latter because, (wonder what that sucker would be worth today) when it did come time to “fill ‘er up”, their wasn’t a nuclear equipped fill’in station in sight. By that time, Ford had abandoned the idea of mass producing the vehicle, because the United Auto Workers union in Detroit wanted “hazardous duty pay” for building them in addition to the 25 bucks a hour they were already getting. (I think Ford eventually diverted the balance of the car’s development funds to another promising new vehicle named the Ford Edsel) Also, a “refill” of the power source, would have required a team of scientists and a trip to Los Alamos. Besides, new research was suggesting that exposure to the radioactive materials that fueled the car might not be good for the passengers health. (Maybe we should have noticed the reddening of our skin and the radiation sickness). To help salvage part of the loss, I think Ford may have sold the patent, plans, and left over nuclear materials, to the North Koreans.(so that’s how they got started)

You know, maybe after all these years, its time to re-consider mass producing that car again. After all, times have changed, technology has changed and most of all, the price of fuel has gone up a little. (hey, I’d buy one) A model of the car, can still be seen in the Ford museum in Detroit.

P.I.B.

FLYING CAR

FLYING CAR

It’s long been the stuff of science fiction and futuristic dreams, but the flying car, is now a reality. In fact, even the Pentagon is working on their own version for military purposes (those guys could turn anything into a weapon). Their concept is to use the vehicle for scouting missions and then fly off into the sunset if the need occurs.

Aside from the military efforts, several private sector companies are also working feverishly on designing a working model flying car, for mass production. I’m having a little difficultly finding the need or potential market for one, except for the “WOW” ..look what I’ve got factor.

I’ve found over the years that most things that are designed to multi-task are normally not very good and any one function. So, in reality, we would probably end up with a lousy car, and an inefficient small plane. (oh, the insurance guys are going to love this one..The cavemen is set for life). Not only that, any teenager can drive, but flying ?.

<<>>
I fell asleep last night while trying to imagine myself 20 years into the future driving one of these gizmos. It was love at first sight, I wanted the 2 seater convertible model parked right next to the sign that said “GIVE FLIGHT TO YOU FANTASIES”. I had to be the first in my neighborhood to have one so I plunked down my 150 grand at the local dealer (Buy and Fly) for the stripped down version. (I did buy the optional low fuel alert system and doubled up on air bags) The salesmen takes me for a quick spin and flight and requires me to watch a 10 minute video on operations and flight safety, and then issues me a stamp on my license showing that I am now certified to operate a land/sky vehicle. Thanks to a loophole in the federal aviation laws,(lobbied for by makers of these dual use passenger cars) any vehicle under 150 horsepower, who’s main function is that of a terrestrial vehicle, does not need to comply with normal Federal Aviation laws.(not really, I just made that up..this is a dream sequence after all) He hands me a complementary pair of aviation sunglasses, a few bags of those airline peanuts, a pair of gold wings to pin on my shirt, and a small back pack parachute and sends me on my way. The next day I’m 15 minutes late and I need to get to work quickly. Traffic is a bear, and I’m laying on the horn, in bumper to bumper traffic. I take a quick glance down at the button on my dashboard that says “flight mode”. In frustration I push the button and my little sub compact car begins the transformation to “Super Cesna”. Before my very eyes, the wings fold out from under the chassis and a small propeller juts out the front of the bumper. The light turns green and I sound the aviation alarm to warn my fellow drivers that I am about to go airborne, and hit my directional signal (the “Up Arrow”) on my steering column. The little old lady in the big green Buick (yes, Buick is still around), shoots me the finger because my unfolding wing just put a three inch gash in the side of her car. I slowly gather speed as I taxi down the roadway, my wing tips plow down road signs, small trees, and a poor guy passing me on his motorcycle. But that doesn’t matter, nearly as much as the semi truck that seems to be in the way of my taxi runway. I pull back on the stick (or steering wheel as the case may be), with all my might, the nose of my craft, inches off the ground. At this point, I can read the fine print on the back of the 40 foot long trailer in front of me. My aerial proximity alarm is screaming in my ear. I put the pedal to the metal and just clear the back of the trailer as I make my assent. I exhale a sigh of relief as the vehicles below me now seem smaller. Now, this is what it’s all about, I’m flying, free as a bird, leaving all the traffic and earthly worries behind me. Free from the asphalt jungle below, I retract the tires, with the simple push of a button, and the transformation to a small plane is complete. A quick glance at my altimeter shows I’m cruising at 300 feet at 150 miles per hour. I kick in the cruise control and crank up my satellite radio. Suddenly, I’m stunned out of my blissful dream state, as my proximity alarm goes off again, this time with a deafening report. Bam, I’m thrown hard to the left as I feel an impact on my right side. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a flash of green, as I’m loosing altitude, and the ground rushes towards me. I see the little old lady in the green Buick flying by, her head just barely clearing the steering wheel and completely oblivious to the fact that she just clipped off my right wing. I guess, even old ladies and bad drivers can buy these things also.

Even though I don’t see the market for this “Ca-plane” (I just coined that term), in all fairness I should really give the concept a thorough cerebral workout. On the positive side, traffic on our roads would decrease, but it would add a whole new dimension to the term fender bender. (as flying accidents tend to be among the types you don’t walk away from). Also, the flying car concept could be good for commerce, as new businesses sprout up(much like the motels of yester year did when automobiles became common) to cater to the airborne driver. Fast food places could hang your bag of food on a high pole, that you have to snag, as you fly by and more billboards would be painted on the tops of tall buildings.

I guess there are still a few bugs to work out, but maybe these hybrid “Aero-mobiles” ( I should copyright this term also), will become common place in the future. I don’t know about you, but I planning a wider garage for my next new house. Hey, they laughed at the Wright Brothers, you know.

P.I.B.