Issue #6 Baking And Big Blue
For Subscribers Only
Once upon a time America made big cars.
I mean BIG CARS.
They ran on leaded gas (getting approximately 8 miles to the gallon) and they had exactly 0 computers that controlled anything.
I had one of those cars. A 1972 Dodge Polara Station Wagon with a 413 cu V8 engine. For the time, it was a pretty top of the line model with power windows and cruise control and a stereo system that could be switched from front to back and a bunch of other cool features.
The speedometer went up to 125 mph and believe me, that baby could do it. I only opened her up wide a few times on back roads because I was living in Ohio and Ohio state troopers are no joke. But I did take that walk on the wild side and it was exhilarating.
I bought “Big Blue” my second year of college and I paid $600 for her.
There was a good reason she was so cheap. Almost right out of the gate she needed a new alternator and a new water pump. Over the 4 years that I drove BB, I replaced the transmission once, had full brake jobs at least twice and, I think, two mufflers. And I learned to never, ever, ever leave the house without 4 giant jugs of water to pop into the radiator as needed. (As needed meant “frequently” and generally in a high traffic area or dangerous neighborhood.)
But the most fun thing was when she would not start, often on a cold day, until you got out, popped the hood, unscrewed the wing nut on top of the air filter, took off the top of that, located the throttle, and propped it open with a ball point pen.
And, apparently, this was not all that unusual because when I posted this poem a couple years ago, it got more comments than almost all my other posts combined. Seems everyone who had a certain era vehicle remembers using this trick. Another common theme was that this was something you “learned from your dad”. I know I certainly did.
I learned a lot of other “fix-it-yourself” strategies for my cars and I really do lament the world I live in now. The world where almost nothing on a car can be adjusted or repaired by a dad (or a mom) with a good set of tools. The world full of error messages and owner’s manuals that only exist online, and tires with lug nuts screwed impossibly tight, yada, yada, yada.
Everything changes.
Copyright© 2023 Anne Morse Hambrock All rights reserved.
From The Garden
My favorite time to enjoy tulips is when the weather is just chilly enough to keep them closed up like this. All too soon it seems a hot day will show up and they will explode.
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