Installment # 55

I have a hunch that people did not clue me in on some things because they thought I probably understood, but just didn’t care.  Things that were obvious to most people were not necessarily obvious to me.  I had probably been married over 40 years before I started to understand what an engagement ring meant to a woman.  As I see it now, a beautiful, expensive engagement ring is something that a woman will treasure all her life.  It will be admired by her friends, maybe envied by some acquaintances she makes during her life; and maybe handed down to a daughter or granddaughter.  If the marriage is a good one, which ours has been (that’s an understatement!), then the beautiful ring will be an almost constant reminder that she is loved and valued, and will bring her happiness all the while.

So of course, at 21 years of age, when we were picking out engagement rings, my only goal was to spend as little money as possible to get her something that she would accept.  Over the years, as we upgraded the rings, I continued more or less with that same approach, having not a clue as to why a woman would need to waste good money on “such nonsense.”  But I would go along, because I loved her and wanted to make her happy.  When the light bulb finally went on in my pea brain (“light dawns over marblehead”), I did not rush out and try to make up for lost time, but I was (and am) humbled by the fact that Sandy had been able to place more importance on our relationship than on the pride and joy she was missing.

My thinking was quite similar regarding the cars I drove.  My first new car was a 1965 VW Bug, and I drove it for 12 years.  My goal was to “get from point A to point B” as economically and efficiently as possible.  I could not imagine why someone would pay more than necessary for a car that got worse gas mileage.  You may recall that the VW Bug had the engine in the back and the trunk in the front.  We used to load up the 3 kids, stick the port-a-crib in the front, tie the trunk down and go off to visit relatives (no seat belts in those days).  The Bug looked like a mouse going down the street with a large piece of cheese sticking out both sides of its mouth.  Uncle Phil commented several times that he would never risk his family’s lives like that.  I thought he was just being one of those macho truck driver types – paid no attention.

I have just never been into cars or, for that matter, the speed or noise or prestige or performance characteristics of what people drive.  It was only a few years ago that I learned that BMW is not a British-made car.  I thought it stood for British Motor Works; turns out it stands for Bavarian Motor Works.  Who knew?  Who cares, really?  We have lived in this court in San Jose since 1975, and the neighbors have come and gone over the years, of course, but I cannot spot a neighbor’s car at a glance.  I may know that they have a small white car or a mid-sized black SUV, but looking out the window, I don’t know if I am looking at their car or if they have a visitor, or if one of the other neighbors has parked in front of their house for some reason.  The cars look pretty much alike to me.

I’m more likely to remember bumper stickers and personalized license plate numbers than the make, model and year of a car that I drive past every day.  As a teenager, Bobby would hear a vehicle going by on Redmond, the next block over, and say, “There goes so-and-so.”  He knew just about everything about his friends’ cars, including what they sounded like a few blocks away.  He did the same with motorcycles, of course.  He knew a lot about the bike without seeing it – just hearing it.

I was so logical that when I bought the VW the dealer said that a radio was optional for something like $75.  Well, I heard that I could go down to one of the auto parts stores and buy one for maybe $30-35 and install it myself.  I wasn’t going to finance $75 when I could pay $30-35 in cash maybe next payday.  Long story short, I had no idea how to install a radio, never went and bought one, and drove that car for 12 years without a radio.  Many years later I realized that I had a 12-year gap in my knowledge of music.  I missed that whole genre from the Beatles to the Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, Jefferson Airplane, The Doors, Aerosmith, Bruce Springsteen, etc.

One of the first trips I made in the brand new1965 VW was with Sandy to Ed and Lynn Goldblum’s wedding up in Weaverville, a small town in the Mt. Shasta area.  As dusk fell, I reached over and tugged on the knob for the headlights, or I thought I did.  As it got darker I was finding it harder and harder to see.  The people in the car behind us were friends of ours going to the same wedding, and for a while I could see ahead to some extent by virtue of their headlights.  We both finally pulled over, and I had to ask whether it looked like my headlights were not working, or were just weak, or what.  He calmly explained that I only had the “running lights” on – I think that’s what he called them – and he showed me how to turn on the actual headlights.  Boy, did I feel dumb, especially in front of Sandy.

On another trip, returning from Lake Tahoe, it was really hot inside the car, even though I had the heater turned off.  The dash board felt hot to the touch, and I was really concerned that maybe the engine was overheating, or there was no water in the radiator, or something.  I kept driving, expecting at any moment that the engine would crack or the car would burst into flames or something.  As soon as I could, I took the car back to the dealer that I bought it from.  I described the conditions, and he said, “You mean the heater is stuck on?”  I looked at him dumbfounded and squeaked, “Is that all it is?”  It was a very simple fix, and they didn’t even charge me, instead apologizing and thanking me for coming in and being so understanding.

I used to think that people with fancy cars had self-image or ego issues and just needed to try to impress people.  I used to snicker, “If you want to feel like a ‘sport’, or want people to think you are a ‘sport’, just drive a car that includes the work ‘sport’ in the model name.  You don’t need to actually be a sport.” Or, what about those model numbers in large characters, where L supposedly stands for Luxury, or E implies Extra or Extended or something?  I confess, though, that in recent years I find myself watching a cheap or banged up car going down the road, and drawing negative conclusions about the driver/owner.  Now I understand pride of ownership, self-respect, the desire to provide as much luxury or at least as much comfort for your wife as you can.  Surely people with common sense “get” this stuff early on and make better life decisions.

I was always very slow to adopt new technology.  We were no doubt the last house in the neighborhood to get a color television.  My thought process?  Black and white is good enough – we can see what the performers are doing and hear what they are saying.  We don’t need color.  Fast forwarding 30-40 years, we bought a new TV at a time when the high-density (HD) technology was less than 18 months away and networks were announcing which of their programs would be available in the new HD.  For an additional amount, we could opt for a TV that would handle HD as it became available.  My thought process?  We both wear glasses.  We can’t see well enough for it to make a difference, anyway.  Why waste money on some new-fangled feature that we don’t need?

Same thing when TV remote controllers came out.  I thought, “Have we become so lazy and spoiled in this society that we can’t get up and turn the channel?  Can’t get up and adjust the volume?  What is this world coming to?”  Same thing with automatic garage door openers.  Except for very rare (in California) and extreme weather conditions, who in the world needs to be able to open the garage door remotely and drive in?  Are you kidding me?  And what if the remote doesn’t work one time, after you have given up your ability to open it manually?  I remember one of the first times I encountered an automatic garage door opener.  We were entering Norm and Pam’s house from the garage.  I was the last one in, so Norm asked me to close the garage door.  I stepped back out into the garage and looked around, saw a rope hanging down with a knot at the end, shrugged and pulled.  It turned out to be something Norm had set up to help him stop at the correct distance from the wall.  When the knot touched the windshield, he knew to stop.  Well, it needed to be put back up after I yanked it down.  He of course enlightened me as to where the large button was to activate the garage door.

The first garage door openers were huge, clunky things that made a lot of noise, which was reason enough for me to prefer the good old fashioned manual method.  If the early versions had reliable electronic sensors that would prevent me from closing the door on a child, or a child’s finger, or keep me from breaking some valuable object that was misplaced, or help me avoid wrecking the door on some heavy object that was in the way, I was not aware of it.  So I was very wary of, and not a fan of, the first automatic garage door openers.  I suppose I also didn’t consider that the door may not be heavy for me to open manually, but what about Sandy?

As a quick aside, Amy was around two years old when we returned late one night from a trip with our neighbors, the Wilks, in their camper.  Al parked in his driveway and we all staggered out of the vehicle (4 adults and 5 kids just waking up after a 5-6 hour drive).  One of the springs on Al’s manually-operated garage door had broken, so it tended to be raised with more effort than normal and come down faster than was probably safe.  Well, Al had the door open and Amy was standing right under it when the other spring broke and that big, heavy wooden door came flying down.  Al happened to be close enough and alert enough to react in a split second and get his body between the door and Amy.  He had a very sore and bruised back the next day, but it would have killed Amy for sure if it had come down on her.  Al had caught it maybe 5 feet from the ground.  Amy’s little body was maybe 2 feet from the ground.  The force would simply have crushed her to death.  Along with my “attitude of gratitude” about my own life, approaching 70 with excellent prospects for continued health, past 47 years of a wonderful marriage, I rejoice that our 3 kids have made it to adulthood and parenthood safe and whole!

But to return to my attitude toward modern conveniences, I am fairly certain that if I had been a young adult when the automobile was being introduced, I would have argued that we didn’t need such a thing.  It was too impractical; there were hardly any roads.  If you recall stories about the earliest automobiles, you had to use a hand crank out in front of the car to get it started; you had to play with the choke, etc.  It was too cold and windy to drive; only the rich could afford them; you needed to be a mechanic, or be able to afford one, and on-and-on.  By the way, ever notice that the one thing you are perhaps least likely to find in the glove box of a car these days is a pair of gloves?  Before windshields and heaters, the driver had to wear gloves to keep his hands from freezing.  I think I would have preferred to be inside a cozy horse-drawn stage coach or something.

For many years the used car ads would include “R&H” or “R/H” meaning radio and heater.  At some point, of course, we all knew we could take for granted that a used car had a radio and heater.  Air conditioning took longer to become standard on new cars, let alone common on used cars.  I was leery of air conditioning at first.  The early units were heavy, so reduced gas mileage, and were not very easy to adjust.  They were optional, so cost an additional $300-$400 at the time.  I calculated that if I use it a few time each summer, and only kept the car 3-4 years, it was costing me around $100 per year, plus the reduced gas mileage.  I would rather just drive with the windows down on a hot day than have ice cold air blowing on me.  I would rather be outdoors in a light t-shirt, then sit in someone’s car and “freeze to death.”  Now, of course, air conditioners are much more user-friendly. 

When power brakes, power steering and power windows and door locks came in, I was right there with “How lazy can you get?” and “It is just more things that can go wrong that you can’t fix yourself.”  Of course, I couldn’t fix anything myself, but maybe I could find a friend or neighbor who would help me, but not with this new-fangled power stuff.  As a strong, agile young man, I had no problem with manual brakes and steering, and no qualms about walking around the car and rolling up the windows and locking the doors by hand.  It is a good thing the auto makers were thinking of people who were not necessarily strong or agile – or young or male, for that matter.

But speaking of heaters, these days the interior of a car warms up quite quickly.  It wasn’t always so.  We used to wait and not turn the heater on until we had been driving for at least 5 minutes, during which time we were very cold and uncomfortable.  Turning the heater on too soon would just blast cold air on us and make it worse.  Finally, when it seemed time, we would turn the heater on.  There were some classic arguments, with the wife yelling, “Turn the heater on!” and the husband yelling, “We need to wait until the engine warms up first!”

Now in the colder climates people can use their remote devices to start the car from indoors and let it idle for a few minutes before getting in.  In fact, at this point, based on the commercials and some cars I’ve seen, it looks like if a person got all of the available features on their automobile, including all the great hands free, verbal activation sound and communication devices, navigation and driver assist devices, etc, driving a car would feel like sitting in the captain’s chair of the Starship Enterprise or something.  It will be interesting to see how the auto insurance industry adjusts to so much hands-free automation.  Where do the manufacturer’s responsibilities end and the driver’s responsibilities begin?

Before the invasion of automobiles from Japan, American-made cars seemed to be designed to “fall apart” by the time the owner finished paying for it.  We called it “planned obsolescence.”  And in those days, most car loans were for three years.  We slowly crept up to five and seven years as the purchase prices climbed.  But with competition, mainly from Japan, American automakers were forced to design and produce higher quality cars that got better gas mileage and were built to last at least for the five or seven years that it took the average owner to pay off the loan.  It used to be that if a General Motors car had over 100,000 miles on it, it was ready to fall apart.  Now a 200,000 to 300,000 mile life is not unusual.

By the way, I took and passed my driver’s test at age 16 using Mom’s VW, with its stick shift and four forward gears. American-made cars had three forward gears, and they were more in front of you, where you could see what you were doing.  The VW stick shift was on the driver’s right and down below his field of vision.  It certainly took some getting used to.  Automatic transmissions had come in by then, but were still in the minority.  I think the authorities administering the tests were still frowning upon people taking the tests using automatic transmissions, because stick shifts were so much more prevalent.  If you could pass the test on a stick shift, you could surely drive an automatic; but it was not so clear the other way around.

Young people might be interested to know that the “distracted driver” rules were unheard of just a few years ago.  When cell phones first came out, there were no rules about using them while driving, even after the advent of texting.  People put bumper stickers on their cars saying things like, “Hang up and drive,” and “Don’t text and drive,” similar to the reminders about drinking and driving.  I remember when Ezra was about 3 years old he was sitting in the driver’s seat of one of the cars parked in the driveway.  As he pretended to drive, his right hand came up to his ear, and it was obvious that he was imitating the motion he saw his mother or father make when they were driving.  As far as he knew from observation, that was part of driving a car.  California finally introduced the “hands free” requirement, where you could still carry on a conversation with someone over the phone, as long as you were using a device that permitted you to keep your hands on the steering wheel and your eyes on the road.  The penalty for being cited for texting or holding a phone to your ear while driving was (and is) rather paltry and not much of a deterrent, but most of us recognize that this is a good, common sense rule – same as seat belts.  Once I got in the habit of putting my seat belt on, I felt uncomfortable not having it on.  

California also passed a rule recently about turning your headlights on any time you are driving under conditions that cause you to use your windshield wipers.  I do this faithfully, because I think it is a good rule.

Canada, or at least the Province of Alberta, where Michelle lives, has a stricter “distracted driver” law that allows an officer to cite a driver if, in the officer’s opinion, the driver was distracted for any reason, such as reaching back to swat a child or grab a bottle of water or something.  This perhaps goes too far: I think we all know we need to “be careful” while driving.  Canada also lowered the blood alcohol threshold for legal impairment such that a driver is almost forced to abstain completely when planning to operate a motor vehicle.  We are again balancing personal liberty with the greater good, and each of us has a sense of where the line is and when it has been crossed.