The Joy of Automobiles: Part One

The first car I learned to drive was my Dad's '57 Chevy Bel Air, in 1966. Cherry salmon and white body, no posts, a steering wheel the size of New York, bench seats, and a 283 HP engine under the hood. Until today, I thought that old V-8 engine was more powerful than my 2008 Honda Civic's 4-cylinder. Not so! Read http://www.howstuffworks.com/5-ways-modern-car-engines-differ-from-older-car-engines.htm#page=0 to find out why. 

Simply put, today's engines are smaller and more efficient, including fuel efficiency, than their older cousins. Is the combustion engine technology the same? Certainly, and even with all that efficiency, a whopping 62% of fuel is wasted in heat and friction. 62%! And I thought Ethanol was inefficient! (25-33% less performance than gasoline.) And we waste corn foods for that stuff? Granted, I agree wholeheartedly we need to cut emissions, and cars and trucks are the worst. Maybe a lot more research into cold fusion will help?

Anyway, the '57 was the cat's pajamas. Then my Dad traded it in for an import -- a brand new Subaru, the first model sold in the U.S. It cost $1,309 POE (Port of Entry). It was white, tiny (smaller than a Beetle), and it had a two stoke engine (oil mixed with gas) in the rear, like the VW bugs. And, it had another surprise.

One night late Dad had called from a bar in Orange for me to come pick him up and drive him home. He was smashed when I helped him into the car, and as we drove, he just rambled until passing out. But he was a good guy. Anyway, I'm cruisin' down the freeway trying to 60 MPH, the Subaru's max speed. The other cars were doing the speed limit, 65, and higher. We were in the slow lane, as usual. I noticed my driver's door wasn't tightly closed. Without thinking, I opened it a hair to pull it back tight.

"Whoosh! Bang!" I swerved I was so shocked, and pulled to the side. The rushing air was pouring in. Dad was still asleep. I had forgotten! The Subaru's doors opened outward and not inward as 99.9% of other car doors did. When had I opened it, the wind caught it and pushed it back into the side of the car. When I stopped, I could see the dent on the side from the door. But the door itself closed normally.

I never told Dad it was me who dented his new Subaru. Three days later when he noticed it I told him it was tapped in the parking lot at the bar by a hit and run. He didn't even yell and scream like I would've. Dad didn't have it fixed. That was my second car until I moved back to Ewing New Jersey in April '67.

During my teenage years I had no money and no job to get money to buy a car, so I walked everywhere I needed to go, hitched on the highway, or bummed rides from schoolmates and acquaintances.  In May 1967 I got a part time job as a stock clerk at the Woolworth's near my high school, and just a mile walk from our house. But then I met Janet in Art class, and we connected strongly at the last school dance of the year. We even kissed for the first time that night.

And Janet, being a senior, drove her parent's car, a sporty, bright red, '66 Rambler convertible. So I didn't need a car. I survived the following year, my senior year, also without a car -- and no plans to get one. Why should I? Janet drove us everywhere, even to our favorite nightly parking spots to neck, when we weren't in her den at her home foolin' around with the door closed and her parents in the next rooms. 

My parents drove me in their green Ford Fairlane to my first full time job with the State of New Jersey as a Food Service Worker at Trenton Psychiatric Hospital. After a few months I moved to my own two-room apartment in Trenton, across from the State Complex. Now I needed a car. Janet came with me, and I bought (for $800) a used '62 VW Bus, with a rolled canvas top. It fit nine comfortably, but only had the engine power to drive five at most. that didn't matter, we still loaded it up with friends and cruised. Janet even sewed curtains for its many windows.

 She and I were so close by now, we had registered the Bus under Janet's name with her auto insurance company for a discount. All our cars have been under her name since for multi-car discounts. 

We had a lot of fun in Rosy-Badi (the VW Bus), loading it with friends and going to Baha'i firesides thruout Mercer County every other night. My hair was past my shoulders and Jan and I wore bell bottoms, so really looked the part when in Rosy.  We were confirmed hippies. 

The cops only stopped us in the Bus once - for a legitimate burned-out tail light. We joked after that how we made such good candidates in the van to be stopped for no reason, since the hippie-establishment conflicts were at their height. And Rosy remained mine until months after Janet and I married ourselves in June '71, outdoors, at Washington Crossing State Park -- with all our parents blessings, of course.

But then Rosy started stalling out intermittently, and I finally diagnosed the engine alternator as the culprit. A few hours of my time to replace it myself, and we were back in business. Janet was driving her parents other car, a white, mammoth '64 Rambler we called "The Tank." It had been a wedding present. Soon we realized we needed better cars and the hunt began....

To be continued...

By Rodney Richards, NJ