In my poverty I learned how to keep cars running.
Once upon a time I replaced the head gasket of my Toyota station wagon in a K-mart parking lot.
Late 'seventies early 'eighties I drove all over the western U.S.A. and Baja Mexico in that car.
At times I lived in that car as well. With all my tools.
I took my first driver's test in an Volkswagen van. My parents are artists. Of course they drove a Volkswagen van.
The DMV examiner looked at me like I was a freak. I don't remember for certain, but I may have been wearing violet pants. Certainly my hair was long and confusing to people who needed to know if I was a boy or a girl.
My first serious girlfriend was an engineer attracted to the heroin waif look which I naturally achieved without the heroin. She could show me off to her parents as the guy she was going to marry.
I never showed her off to my parents because I was pretty sure they would have told me I was going wrong.
Praise be to God that marriage did not happen, a match made in hell, the David Lynch version of My Big Fat Greek Wedding without the Greek.
She married someone else, a woman who had tried to kill herself in my bathtub. If I ever get some kind of gold star fast pass at the Pearly Gates it's for making that match.
My wife and I met teaching science in the big city.
Back to cars...
When I was driving all over the place gasoline was essentially free. I'd get jobs paying eight to ten dollars an hour. I could fill the tank of my car working an hour. I could get a warped engine head milled flat with a day's work.
That car culture was awesome.
As a rabid environmentalist my secret vice is Jay Leno's Garage...
He talks about Ralph Nader in this video.
Ralph Nader is an asshole.
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