If you own a
vintage car, the winter months can be frustrating. Do you pack the car away,
disconnect the battery, cover it in blankets and pour Stabil into the tank? Or,
do you take every opportunity during those months to stretch your car’s legs?
One year, I
poured Stabil into the tank of my AMC Spirit, and come spring, I had to replace
the gas sending unit. I know it isn’t supposed to destroy gas sending units,
but the flu shot isn’t supposed to make you sick either. I don’t know why I
poured that crap into the tank. I drove the car every clear day that winter,
and it was Snowmaggedon winter at that!
What freaks
some people out is that I drive my 1954 Hudson Jet Liner year-round with some
exceptions of course. I never take it out if there is salt or sand on the road,
and therein lies my dilemma this year. While we aren’t having a year like
Snowmaggedon, we are having a snow event every week. Don’t you love how they call
them “rain events” and “snow events” now? Up until the latest rain event, our
roads were covered in salt. Tomorrow, we are supposed to have a “sun event,” so I plan to drive it.
I look at the
seven-day forecast to see if a clear day falls on a day when I can get Fred
Mertz out on the road. Sure, the rest of you have better things to do on a rare
sunny winter day, but how often during January and February do you get an
opportunity to drive a sixty-year-old car? Wow, I just realized that 2014 makes
my car sixty years old! OK, let’s not rush it. He left the factory in August
1954, so he is fifty-nine and half.
Do you know
what else I do? I run errands in the Hudson. I leave him in parking lots while
I go inside and shop. I take him to the barber shop. I even use him to take my
dog to the vet. I found that getting dog hair off vintage vinyl is a lot easier
than vacuuming it out of new cloth seats. I have a friend who has a coronary
every time I do this. I always tell him when I do just to get his reaction.
I had
friends who owned a 1979 Lincoln Towne Car they parked in my garage at the
apartment complex where I lived at the time. They hardly drove the car. I had a
set of keys, so I would call them and tell them I was taking their car to go
shopping. Sure, it took up two spaces in the parking lot, but it was being
driven, and that is what mattered. I eventually bought the car, and if I could
have parked it in my driveway after I bought my house without the trunk hanging
out to the middle of the street, I would still own it today.
Here is the
deal. It’s a goddam car! If I don’t drive it, who will? I think just letting it
sit until the next car show is an insult to the men and women who built it.
Also, car shows kind of bore me after the first couple of hours unless there
are some really interesting and rare autos in attendance.
Speaking of
car shows, have you noticed how some owners pull out a lawn chair and sit by
their cars all day ready to answer questions? I realize your car is special,
but good God! Get up off your ass and go look at all the other cars. I park
mine and go walk around. I guess I am not as self-absorbed as some would think.
I love my car and get excited each time I am able to drive it, but I don’t
expect you to get excited at the sight of it parked between a Commodore and a
Terraplane.
My other favorites are the ones who spend the entire show detailing their cars. Do you really have no time to clean your car before the show? This is the equivalent of leaving your hair in curlers then combing it out after you sit down at a luncheon.
At Hershey,
they have that Car Coral with all the cars for sale. Now, I understand standing
next to your car if you are trying to sell it, but some of these people are
downright weird. Last time I was there, I saw a very nice 1955 Studebaker Champion
four-door sedan for sale. I approached the car to see the interior. All the
windows were rolled up, and a family – or I assume a family – or four adults,
recently escaped from the set of Deliverance,
were sitting in the car. Not wanting to squeal like a pig or hear how pretty my
mouth was, I walked away very quickly. I cannot imagine they sold that car.
Then I wondered if they were part of a package deal. Buy a Studebaker and get a
set of four kissing cousins included as a bonus.
At the
Rockville Antique and Classic Car Show, there was a 1956 Packard Caribbean that
was shown for several years. The car was pristine. In the passenger seat every
year sat an elderly woman, doing a crossword puzzle and smoking a cigarette.
She was always smoking inside that gorgeous car! You could tell by the look on
her face, that this was the last place she wanted to be. I never saw her
husband. This past year, the car wasn’t there. I wonder if he died, or if she
finally burned a hole in the seat and he killed her? We will never know.
Of course,
the spectators don’t get off the hook. My friend Frank and I were walking
around the Rockville show near a couple of early 1930s Cadillacs when we heard in
a very loud voice from a man looking inside a beautiful 1932 model, “Wow. This
Cadillac has a manual transmission.” That cracked us up.
Toward the
end of this year’s show as we returned to Fred Mertz to take him home, I noticed
the owners of the 1937 Hudson Terraplane were still sitting in their chairs,
just where we left them four hours earlier. I know them well through the Hudson
club, and they are a lovely couple. The Missus said to me, “Milton, a lot of
people had questions about your Jet, but you weren’t around. Where were you?”
Seriously? We
were looking at the other 500 cars in attendance. To me, standing there waiting
to answer questions is like wearing a new suit to a party and standing in the middle
of the room hoping everyone will notice and ask you where you bought it. Oh my
God. Get over yourself.
When I go
out and run errands in my Hudson, I don’t do it so others see me on the road. I
do it for the pleasure of driving a vintage car and appreciating manual
steering and brakes while not wearing a seat belt. It is like driving naked!
Yes, getting
the occasional thumbs up is cool, but for the record, I hate it when they beep because it scares the shit out of me.
However, can
you imagine if I parked it at the grocery store then stood by it for an hour
hoping someone would ask me about it?
The sad part
is I know someone who loves attention, and he would do just that. If I ever do
it, throw a net over me.
If you drive
in winter or if you don’t, get on my email list, follow me or buy a book at www.miltonstern.com.
