Something to read

[6T5 square]

Something to read when you got nothing to do...

I got it off the type 3 mailing list (another site I hang out on)

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Here is a slightly humorous article that was in the Charleston Post & Courier
... in the paper it included a photo of a black 361 ... about a 69 model ....
but that photo was not on the on-line version.  Just for fun ...

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I came to Charleston in 1984 in a $500 car I paid too much for.

It had been somebody's fishing car, an old, beat-up Volkswagen Squareback.

Be grateful if you don't remember the model. It was specifically designed for
middle-age divorced men to use when they left town.
It represented just the right amount of shame and consumed more oil than gas.

It also lacked a reverse gear, which meant there was no turning back. I drove
that car for two of the most desperate years of my life. One step ahead of
family court and two steps behind on the rent. Sometimes at night, when it was
really quiet, I could actually hear it corroding in the salty summer air. Come
morning the front fender would ride to work with me in the back seat, along with my
dignity and pride. Both of us smoked at the time, but it died first, an
undignified death on the side of the road, engulfed in flames. I stood there
watching it burn, unable or unwilling to save it. Raise your hand if you've been
there.

Automotive triage
Today I am doing better, but I still slow down when I pass people pulled off on
the slender shoulders of life, staring at a car that won't go.
Sometimes the symptoms are visible. Steam rising from the radiator. Smoke
billowing from the tailpipe.
Other times, it's something more serious, deep down in the smelly, oily parts of
the engine you don't understand.
Mechanics like to whistle through their teeth, wipe a dirty rag across their
chin and shake their heads just before delivering the bad news. Overhaul. Rings.
Brake job. Unknown electrical issues. These things, of course, don't come
without warning.

You heard the innards grinding when you pulled up steep hills. You tried to ignore the squealing when you ground to a stop.
Sometimes, when you released the clutch, the engine would just conk out and
leave you sitting at a green light, your cursing drowned out by a chorus of
honking horns. You live in a world of automotive triage. Fix the fan belt and
forgo the left headlight. Who needs a heater when you have to replace the water
hose?  Eventually you're reduced to basics. It cranks. It runs. It's almost
legal.

Used tires
Truthfully, you haven't lived the lower end of life until you've bought used
tires, wrapped duct tape around a carburetor or tied up the muffler with
Christmas tree lights. If you're poor and without wheels, you know the agony of
the used car carousel. The only thing worse than your present pile of junk is
the next bucket of bolts you have to buy. And, without fail, the things that
worked on your last car do not work on the next one. If only you could put three
jalopies together to make one almost decent car, you'd have a chance. But you
don't. It's dark and raining and traffic is whizzing past you as you look under the hood,
jumper cables in hand, wondering who will come to your rescue. Maybe somebody
like me, who had a car like that once.

[VWPANZER1]

Great piece of writting!! :icon_study:

jt

[scarecrow]

Wow... that hits too close to home for me :icon_pale: I try not to remember those days

[bugman74]

it reminds me of my college years, first car was a 63 chevy c10 pick up (spare tire on the side) sanford and son style, traded that for a paint job on my 74 bug. I should have traded it for mechanical repairs.   I remember driving through haddonfield and having the bug shut off beacause the battery dropped through the floor.  I can look back and laugh now, but at the time I felt like crying and wondering what had I gotten myself into.  Now I know, I have grown up with a sense of knowing that if I am patient and think things through, I can figure out how to fix it without losing my mind.  That was a great piece of lit.