ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Sunday, July 28, 1996 TAG: 9607300014
SECTION: CURRENT PAGE: NRV-2 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
COLUMN: Dispatches From Rye Hollow for Sunday July 28
SOURCE: STEVE KARK
I have this friend who is a very good mechanic. One might think this would be enough to explain his knack for keeping his cars on the road and not in the garage. But being a good mechanic, he once told me, is only part of it.
The rest has more to do with attitude than it does with socket wrenches and dip sticks. One could know his way around the nuts and bolts of a car, he said, and still fail to properly maintain one if the right attitude is absent.
The real secret to keeping a car on the road, he'd say, is to give it a name. However silly it may sound, naming a car makes sense because this, more than anything else, can have a powerful effect on your attitude toward the car.
If you treat a car like a lifeless machine, it will respond in kind. It'll break down and leave you stranded somewhere in the middle of the night.
On the other hand, when you name a car you make it more than a simple machine, you give it life. Treat it well, respect and take care of it, and the car will return the favor.
Simply put, the way you think about a car will affect the way you treat it. And the way you treat it will affect the way it treats you.
As students neither my friend nor I - nor anyone else we knew, for that matter - had much money. Our transportation was limited by how long we were able to keep a succession of cheap junkers in running condition.
The cars we drove required constant attention, and were sometimes held together with little more than duct tape and wire. Still, we felt rewarded by having cars that had a good deal more character than anything we've driven since.
For instance, I now drive one of those trendy "sport-utility vehicles" that are so popular these days.
It's 10 years old and has provided me with good, dependable transportation most of the time. Only recently has the truck begun to show the wear and tear of the miles I've put on it.
I still try to perform most of the maintenance and repairs myself, but I've found this difficult because much of what needs to be done has gotten too complicated for a mechanically challenged person like me. It's not like in the old days, when I could do it myself with 50 bucks worth of parts, a free evening and a six-pack of beer.
This bothers me for more than purely financial reasons. I've found that my attitude toward my truck is changing. No longer old friends, the trust established between us over the last decade has gradually eroded.
There are several causes for this change.
For instance, there was the time last spring when the truck erupted in a geyser of steam, shooting a funnel of hot vapors into the night sky as my wife and I returned from town.
Admittedly, I was somewhat amused by the spectacle of the thing - I didn't know steam from a radiator could shoot so high. My wife, though, didn't share my sense of amusement. To her the breakdown represented nothing less than vehicular anarchy.
Fortunately for me, however it might have wounded my outdated male pride, this incident occurred in a convenience store parking lot and two gallons of store-bought water saw us safely on our way.
On cold mornings, the truck coughs and sputters when it starts. The engine shivers and leaks a little oil. I'm afraid it may be on its last legs.
I feel betrayed. When I brought it home, the truck was almost brand new. It ran perfectly. It started easily, ran smoothly and didn't leak oil. It was shiny and new and ran like a top.
It was everything you'd want in a car.
I felt as though I had finally achieved a part of the American Dream, my very own sport utility vehicle. I saw it as a measure of my own success. I'd reached new heights. I'd gone beyond all that car-naming mumbo jumbo. I didn't need it anymore. Surely, I could dispense with my friend's outdated ritual.
So, I didn't name the truck.
Now look at the fix I'm in. I want to bond with my truck again. I want to breathe life back into its tired old chassis, and I'd do anything to have it back, short of raiding my bank account.
What do you think about the name "Lightning"? or "Sparky"? or "Buster"?
They say it's never too late to change your ways.
LENGTH: Medium: 79 linesby CNB