Measurement of a Man: Motors, Horse Power, Mufflers and More
The men in my life are diverse, so when trying to size them up I employ their relationships with automobiles as a path to help me understand them best.
My own father has ever been really outdoorsy, which suited him perfectly. He worked as a life scientist, but is retired now. Picking up a fossil here; chipping a rock there, that’s my daddy. He never managed to acquire any warmth for machinery. He was brought up by his parents to act like a gentleman, but motors and geartrains appeared to expose the worst in him. I have early memories of him cussing the Industrial Age as he was bent over an engine.
My father would always switch the tyres on our Volkswagen camper, but I never saw him fawning over aftermarket center caps or grille work. While he would now and again dab some Rust-o-leum onto rusted spots on the van or put H2O in the radiator, you would never see him take a Q-tip to the dashboard knobs or scrub the headlights with a toothbrush.
My father-in-law, on the other hand, is a auto man all the way. He knows make, model and year of everything that’s probably ever traveled the Pennsylvania turnpike. Scrubbing whitewalls or ogling a 1962 Chevy at the Antique Car Club show is his idea of a well-spent Sunday.
He grew up in rural northern Pennsylvania and graduated rapidly from a pacifier to a pitchfork and wrench. Where he grew up, farm boys were expected to learn everything they could about animal husbandry and automobile mechanics. He has preserved his passion for gizmos, wheels, and motors, but has no interest in animals. He left the farm, never looking back, and went to college.
My hubby is a professor like his pop and his father-in-law, but that is where the resemblance ends. He does not camp, collect rocks or meticulously wash his vehicles. His idea of a good afternoon is sipping coffee at Starbucks, grading exams and tripping along the bunny trails that are Facebook.
He puts petrol in the car, but would be more likely to use his Ford center caps for paper weights instead of using them to floss his ride. No offense to hard working wheel center caps. He makes it a point to vacuum his car once in a while and doesn’t mind driving around with “Wash me!” on the back window indefinitely.
Our daughter’s boyfriend is just like my father in law, but a bit more juiced. He got a high performance muffler kit as a gift last month and has been excited ever since beyond his exhaust growls deeply. You can tell that our daughter is in the throes of love when you hear her talk about how you can hear him approaching from a mile away.
There’s not doubt that the relationships that men have with their cars can be complicated. On occasion, the car can be a expression of a man’s masculinity, while other men act as if their vehicles were an enemy that are a nuisance to be subdued or at the very least, tolerated.
Some men give their cars names and some blaspheme them. Some give their cars plenty of TLC and others claim bragging rights because their car or truck is a total beater or has the most mileage. Car stories are sold over beers, like war stories used to be shared around a campfire.
This is the reason the auto industry can sell billions of dollars worth of window tint, aftermarket center caps, dash accoutrements, chrome, seat covers, wheels, car alarms, backup sensors, hoods, exhausts, and decals.
Whether the wheels in the drive are fodder for cursing or cooing, I think there’s some inevitable mechanistic mojo going on – Kind of like to “If you build it, he will come.”