Four Wheels
(Photo courtesy of my wife.)
You betcha that my 16-year-old self got my driver’s permit as soon as humanly possible. Six or so months later, I was licensed. I found a personal pride in the fact that my gym teacher, who doubled as a Driver’s Ed instructor, said my parallel parking job was the best he’d ever seen by a student. Nailed it.
In George Strait’s classic song, “The Best Day,” the second verse tells the story of a boy who restores a classic Corvette with his father. The line that sums it up is:
“When you’re in your teens, your dreams revolve around four spinnin’ wheels”
As the old sayings goes, there is nothing like the freedom of the open road. The first car that was really “mine” was a ‘98 Honda Civic with a 5-speed manual transmission. It might have only been a dinky little commuter car with rust around the left-rear wheel well, but man, it was the best thing ever. I could go nearly 40 miles on a gallon of gas (and you bet that a gallon was all that I had in the tank on several occasions) and loved working it through the gears.
I put 90 thousand miles on that car in just about 3 years. Whether it was picking up dates or learning how to drift in the snow (much to my parents’ chagrin), I loved that car. Ol’ Susan was more than worth the $2500 my parents split with me when I was 19.
Fast forward a few years and another car later, I had the chance to buy my first truck, which I still own to this day. That old F-150 currently has 202 thousand miles and a lot of memories - I drove it from Missouri to Virginia to marry my wife, then drove it back again with her belongings as we started life together after our honeymoon. Actually, the truck was our getaway vehicle - that gas guzzling, Oxford white ‘99 Lariat was decked out with ribbons and a “just married” sign, courtesy of our friends (see photo). That truck has moved my family twice since then and continues to be my daily driver, at least for now. That squeaking in the rear end might just be the beginning of the end of this family vehicle’s chapter, but I’m not quite ready to let go of that beautiful old truck.
About a year ago, just before our second daughter was born, my wife’s old Toyota Corolla was at the point of the repairs costing more than the car was worth, so by the grace of God we found a well cared for used Honda Odyssey that fit our needs. I’ll admit, the choice to go with a minivan was not one that came easily. Thank God we accepted the reality that we have two kids and hope to have more, and a minivan is the economical and practical solution. And now we get to watch our kids grow in that car. And the Dad in me adores its practicality.
For many of us, our cars are part of the story. Sometimes, they’re a huge part of it. My grandfather was a mechanic for multiple decades and continues to plink around in his 80s on a 1986 short bed F-150 that he’s been rebuilding. My uncle is an auto body mechanic and has done work on cars all across the Hudson Valley in New York. I grew up riding around in my Dad’s various Ford Rangers he had over the years. The little I do know about car maintenance and repairs, I learned from him.
Cars are sometimes points of contention. My wife kindly redirects me when I get on a tear about the trucks I like or all the servicing I think our cars need. My Dad, a lifelong commuter, constantly researches his next vehicle despite my mother’s desire that they don’t swap cars out every couple of years (she also lamented when they traded in her bright red ‘95 Volkswagen Jetta for a Chevy Lumina -- the ‘90s were a weird decade -- and when someone rear ended her Toyota Highlander a while back and totaled it). I’m always ogling the myriad of shiny new F-150s I see driving around our hometown, and wondering how on earth I can afford a truck that costs as much as a fleet of my first car would have.
Having visited Europe for pleasure and Japan and the Middle East for work, it’s interesting to see the differences in how cultures seem to view cars. In all my travels, I honestly don’t think many places revere their cars like America does. They’re often taken care of but are used largely for their transportation practicality as opposed to pleasure driving.
Car shows, swap meets, lines spilling onto the street waiting for automatic car washes, and car dealerships are commonplace in our country. Think about the food service industry - how many restaurant chains cater to drivers? It’s just so easy to pull up for that Venti Cold Brew and zip off to the next thing. I honestly think Chic-Fil-A’s sales have increased since COVID-19 forced the industry to rely on drive through service.
Whether it’s a pickup truck loading plants from the hardware store or a weekend driver that only sees the light of day on sunny Saturdays, so many people love their cars. They love the freedom we have to get inside and drive across town, to the next state over, or to the coast. Who doesn’t like pulling into a gas station, making a pit stop for cheap snacks, then zooming on to the next adventure?
-MJVW