How, exactly, do you explain the automotive sickness to someone who simply doesn’t understand what everything is about? Can you properly explain it? As far as I can tell, you can’t. I’ve spent thirty of my thirty-five years of life trying, and failing miserably. My first younger brother honestly thinks that I have a mental condition that needs treatment. We don’t deal with each other pretty much at all…I haven’t seen him in a few years and might have dealt with him five times total since the day I hopped a Greyhound bus and left home in 1999. But let me say one thing, any thing, about a car that sounds like I might be interested and his reaction will be a mix of disgust, concentrated annoyance and even anger. And that’s on my best days, when I’m looking at an actually desirable car, like a race car, or a restored beauty. Most of my family and quite a few of my friends don’t get what the deal is. They’re cars. They are tools. They serve to move your ass from Point A to Point B in a swift manner. They don’t eat hay, they don’t shit all over your yard, and when it dies you don’t feel as bad as if you would if the horse kicked the bucket on you.
Unfortunately, my situation is even worse: I adore beaters. I love the idea of an unloved, cast-off car being used above and beyond it’s original potential. Part of that means that you have made a commitment to being the caretaker to someone else’s creation. You didn’t build the car, you didn’t buy the car from new and lovingly maintain it. You found it cast-off in the classifieds, probably for a cheap price, and you said “screw it” and laid down a few hundred dollars. Maybe a couple of thousand if you are a big spender. What do you do then? Some just drive that small investment literally until the wheels fall off and consider it money well spent. Others have no other option and treat the car like they would any other…they maintain it, drive it, and go about their lives like nothing is wrong. Then there’s people who go above and beyond, those who see more than transportation, more than the cheap way into mobile freedom. They see adventure, creativity, a challenge. They see an old sled or a car the public on the whole avoids like the black plague and they throw caution to the wind, trust their skills, and go have an adventure. Thousands of miles in a late-model car is a long drive. Thousands of miles in a car that has more age and experience than you do? That’s an adventure, my friend.
Memories of a Jean Shepherd type monologue from a late night, listening to WOR 710 AM!
Great story, really enjoyed it