Volksie

Today is the 40^th anniversary of Earth Day.  I believe that we need Earth Day more than ever, but that’s not what each April 22 means to me.  And it’s not just a reminder of my brother-in-law’s (Lance Armstrong… no, not that Lance Armstrong) birthday, though I never forget it.

You see, 40 years ago today I bought my first car, a 1965 Volkswagen.  I bought it from an NYPD Tactical Patrol Force officer, guys who liked to chew up college students and spit them out… scared the hell out of me.  It seemed like a lot of money at the time, but my last pair of eyeglasses cost me far more (and boy, did that ever piss me off!).  I had an intense emotional relation with the bug, so intense that I haven’t had an emotional relationship with an automobile ever since.  That’s probably a good thing.

I always found it ironic that I became part of a group of the world’s worst polluters (car owners) on Earth Day.  Despite that irony, I didn’t care, as it meant far more to me.  It still means a lot to me, now in the form of vivid memories that are timeless:

• Donna’s excitement (yeah, we were together even 40 years ago… that’s a very good thing) when I changed the standard cheapo plastic knobs and shifter to faux wood grain, even though it could be argued that it is the same principle as putting whipped cream on a hot dog.  She humored me through endless purchases from the JC Whitney catalog, most of which were more therapy than utility.
• My mother laughing at coming home from work and finding me having taken the car apart with pieces scattered all over the driveway.  I was emboldened by the best automotive repair book ever written:  How to Keep Your Volkswagen Alive – A Manual of Step-by-Step Procedures for the Compleat Idiot (that’s not a typo… that’s how they spelled Compleat).  Mom said it was the first time I ever showed patience for anything. Then we all laughed when I put everything back together, with parts left over.  And it still worked.  That was to become my trademark. [As my T-shirt says, “Curious enough to take it apart. Talented enough to put it back together. Clever enough to hide the leftover parts.] Now, doctors keep removing parts from me, and I still work.
• Seeing my father choosing to drive the bug when his own car was readily available.  He got a kick out it… but still preferred that not too many people see him behind the wheel.  I think he wanted young guys in the neighborhood to see him, not his friends.
• The time I picked up Professor LeMee at JFK airport (he was lost trying to find PanAm operations for our field trip… cheap engineering thrills) the morning after a heavy rain at a time when the sunroof leaked so badly there was water sloshing around in the back seat.  And he didn’t flunk me, though I could tell he was horrified by the experience.
• After having been stuck a number of times from one breakdown or another, I was determined not to let it happen again.  I even made it possible (JC Whitney again) to start it with a pull start like a lawnmower.  Then my friends, in an attempt to thwart my demo, unplugged two spark plugs so it wouldn’t start… and we all went nuts when it started any way.  Gotta love a bug.
• The joy I had at being a VW owner when their TV commercials were hysterical.  Check out The Funeral… it epitomized the giddy pleasure of owning a Beetle.
• And finally, the enduring memory of Donna and I bawling like babies when we sold it 3 years later.  We got $500 for it (remember it was 1973), and my Uncle Mike thought that was highway robbery… until it sold in about 30 minutes with multiple offers still coming in.

So here’s to Earth Day, and the memory of our Volksie.  Oh, and Happy Birthday, Lance!