I accidentally give myself a shock trying to connect the jumper cables to the battery. It seems that I'Il have made the mistake of not running my car in the past few weeks, and to spite me, it has drained its brand new battery.
Rumbling to life, it's immediately apparent that this car is different from most here in northern Jersey. It, like my afro that touches the roof when I get in, was born in the early seventies, and while they both were a common sight at the time, it is a special occasion to see one today.
The cheap, dent hiding white paint job has been replaced by grey primer, then flat black paint, because rust reared its ugly head in small spots around the car’s body. The dents are just cosmetic however, and the frame is solid. In the same way my body is decorated with scars that I wouldn’t want to remove even if I could because each of them tell a story.
When you strap into the four point racing harness you may notice that the car doesn’t have all of the bells and whistles that are now expected of cars like air conditioning, power steering, and a radio, but they aren't missed. And while it doesn’t have airbags or crumple zones, it does have harnesses and a roll-cage, which do the job just as well but in a slightly more spartan way. Great cars were made before these new standards were set and great scholars and people existed before this new definition of a well rounded person was created.
Start moving and you understand why someone would get a car like this. Both driving and being a passenger in it are an experience to remember. Created before engines relied on computers and throttles were electronic, the car has personality and soul. It fights you when it doesn’t want to do something. The throttle is touchy, while the clutch and the brake require a heavy foot, so the car takes some getting used to. It doesn’t like running in the cold and will let you know it, but, it will always run. The car is happiest at 3250 rpms in second gear; dip into the throttle then, and the car comes to life, lunging forward with a roar and strong vibration all the way to redline. It, like me, is human, and has its flaws and strengths, and it makes no attempt to hide them.
Before working on your own car voided the warranty, and before we felt we needed trucks with a foot and a half of ground clearance to commute to work, there were true cars, cars that shocked you and were alive.
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