J. Stovall wrote:
>
> >>Old decrepit cars and owners (no gender bias here)
> >>You are all OLD FARTS this means that the average age on this list is around
> >>900 ?what age I wonder?
> >>all of you bar a couple of kids out here,(like me ) are older than the cars
> >>you drive. I'm afraid most if not all are in your second /third childhood
> >>trying to make out you are still sixteen (these must be worring thoughts for
> >>the 16 yo kid who signed up recently to see what he may be like in 30 years
> >>time ).:-)
> >>
> >>Tony.
> Whoa, wait a second. Where did THAT come from? And why? Tony, just so you
> know, I'm 16 and would rather drive our '66 Triumph than our'92 Corolla or
> our '93 Camry. I would rather drive the Triumph than just about any other
> car, in fact. I'm not real sure why you felt the need to do something as
> immature and senseless as you did, but just remeber there are people with
> other tastes, and age is just a number. Off my soapbox now.
Okay, Jeff, we see you stepping off the soapbox. <g>
Most of the folks here are heartened to see you thinking in this way. I
know what you're thinking about Toyotas (hell, I got my master
mechanic's license while working in a Toyota dealership in 1982....).
Well-built, sound, reliable cars. But, not much fun (well, thrashing
Supras was a kick <g>), not what that Spitfire of yours is to you. I've
been watching you write about your troubles and travails in getting it
running. Had a message or two from you about what all of us can expect
from the new Triumphs.
This fellow Tony may have missed the point. To him, we're all living in
the past--perhaps a valid point for someone living in the present, but
only to a point. These cars are history, part of the past, yes. A lot
of us think they are an essential part of history, technologically and
otherwise. The otherwise being our personal histories.
The cars we dote on helped change the way America thinks of itself.
Made those of us who owned and drove these cars when we were young think
differently about ourselves. As TeriAnn suggests, we've gone on
thinking differently about ourselves--for better or worse. <g>
Okay, Jeff, you're part of breed. Some of your contemporaries, such as
our friend Tony, above, will think you a part of something dying. But
you are learning as you are doing. When I was not much older than you
are now, I bought my first car, a `63 Spitfire 4, in Hawaii, when I was
in the army. When I was tinkering with it one day, a Jamaican mechanic
walked up and said, "no, mon, you cannot play with the vernier, you must
set the timing with a light and leave it." It was my first car... I
didn't know what the hell he was talking about. But I listened to him,
and learned a little. And I met someone new.
When I was driving the car back east after I got out of the army, it
sheared a key between the rear axle and hub, and I barely got into
Winslow, AZ at 4 am. One garage was open, with a kid on duty whose face
had been quite horribly burned. I was in trouble and told him about my
predicament, and he was happy to help, if he could. "Got an old
screwdriver around?," I said. Only from the toolbox of the day
mechanic, he said. "Well, I don't want you getting into trouble," I
said. Without another word, he walked over and grabbed a couple, and
said, "one of these do?" I made a key on the garage grinder from one of
the screwdrivers and went on my way. But before I did, I left him ten
bucks to replace the screwdriver, and shook his hand, and thanked him
(and met somebody new).
A couple of hundred miles later, the bearing on the same axle let go,
just outside of Gallup, New Mexico. In 1970, it was such a godforsaken
place that only a Continental engine franchise would work on my car. I
drove up on an early Friday afternoon, and the two partners were working
on separate jobs. One was putting together a flathead out of a `50's
Dodge pickup while a bunch of hippies in the bed of the truck looked on
in awe while the guy put their engine together, very authoritatively
explaining what he was doing as he sunk in the head bolts with an impact
wrench. The other partner was stripping a VW engine as he muttered
underneath his breath, "that thing is gonna break down in 50 miles, and
I'm gonna have to go out an get it, and then fix it," and in about half
an hour, as he was talking, had the engine apart and in the parts
washer. "You work on my car, y'hear?," I said. He quit about seven and
said, as he was leaving, "if you want to work on the car, stay as late
as you like--just close the garage doors behind you and lock up." And
off he went.
He'd already looked at my car, ordered parts from Denver, and told me
when they might be in... "probably Sunday," he said. So I figured I'd be
immobile until Monday. Sunday morning, the parts had arrived by
Greyhound, and by the time I checked the garage, just in case, the guy
was already putting the car back together. And, as he was doing so, he
mentioned that he'd seen Hawaii plates on the car, and he was thinking
of a good place, like Hawaii, to take his wife on their 20th
anniversary, and we sat and talked for a couple of hours about Hawaii
and good places to visit there. And so I met someone else new.
In this rather long explanation, what I wish to convey is that this list
is not just about cars, it is also about people. And our friend, Tony,
in his youthful enthusiasm, may have missed that essential part of what
is going on here... people with a common interest talking to each other,
sharing information (and anecdotes). A fair amount of what goes on in
this list has nothing to do with age, or cars, but rather, people of
like interests getting to know each other, and, sometimes, helping each
other, sharing their knowledge and experience. Maybe Tony just isn't
going to have the opportunity for a few adventures as you're likely to
have with your Spitfire, and fewer opportunities to meet people, without
the help of a little British engineering. <g>
Cheers.
--
My other Triumph doesn't run, either....
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