One of my earliest solo endeavors would have been the time I changed a set of springs at the age of 16 on a car that was at least 16 itself. This, of course, was done in the front yard of my Dad's house armed with just the most basic of tools and youthful enthusiasm on my side. The car was a Pontiac Stratochief. I, of course, called it "The Stratollac," reckoning, I guess, that people might confuse it for a Cadillac.
I bought her for $75.00 out of the back yard of an older couple (in those days that meant 40+ years) from Victoria Harbour. Inexplicably they had left her there to languish! There was little wrong with that car that a bit of mechanical repair and a lot of "bondo" and fibreglass couldn't fix. By the time I was done grinding and patching, both rear quarter panels from back door to tail lights were "of my own creation." The resultant weight, and possibly my "spring repair job," made her a "low rider." I was truly ahead of my time and didn't know it!
A perhaps less than thorough, but much appreciated safety check by a friend of a friend, and a form of insurance known as "unsatisfied judgment," and I was driving! I loved that old car, and it loved me back. Sure, we had our occasional spats, but I learned that she just needed a little more attention than some. Fluid levels, performance loss, and faint but recurring noises, were not to be ignored. The plans of an enjoyable evening could be squashed at a moments notice if she sensed the slightest indifference from you! Sound familiar, fellas?
Anyyyways...back to cars. As we all know, getting and keeping a car "on the road" is a little more complicated than that these days! Speaking of these days...it was just the other day that we were discussing the need for some brake work to be done on my wife's car when my stepson Jeff mentioned that he had done lots of that sort of thing all the time on cars during an auto mechanics class in high school.
That's when I felt that pesky "youthful enthusiasm" well up in me and I found myself suggesting that we just take care of the job ourselves in the front yard! Just like the ole days, eh! We checked the weather and tomorrow's promise was a mostly sunny six degree day, which sounded not bad if you didn't think too deeply into the effects of windchill and how much gusts of 35km/hr would influence the atmosphere on the ground, under a car next to ten acres of open fairgrounds.
By the time we finished that "little brake job" Jeff was near his "braking point." Frozen fingers struggled to disassemble and reassemble cold steel objects as the long hours had passed, lying in what was becoming a sand dune around the car. We had sand in nearly every orifice (boxers had nothin' on briefs that day). Through grit filled eyes, a grimace on his face, and a single tear on his sand stained cheek, Jeff compared this ordeal to changing a track on a tank on the roadside in Afghanistan.
I marvelled at how he could make that comparison since most of his battle experience, that I know of, has been leading combat missions against Taliban strongholds from the comfort of my couch in our rec room, using only his thumbs to wreak havoc on the enemy!
Twentysomethings today all feel that "newer" is somehow better, and feel entitled to have all new things. This is totally foreign thinking to me! Especially when it comes to vehicles!
Everyone knows that it takes at least a decade of use before a car or truck fully develops it's character. Just take, for example, my dear old "Stratollac"...
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As the giant blue spots in the middle of my vision began to fade I was relieved to see that my boat was still in tow and the fishtailing had subsided nicely. With the crisis handled, I thought I'd delight the young fellas with a riveting "old days" account of how "driving with one eye closed" meant something completely different during the 70's. Met with blank stares, looks of disbelief and disdain, I realized that these "children of the 90's" found no humour in a cavalier attitude toward that kind of thing...no matter what the year was. Driving in silence...me with my thoughts, they with their I-pods, I wondered how young Nick had managed to load and fire off a picture so fast on a camera that had never before been in his hands? Hmmm...beginners luck?
That afternoon and evening was of course uneventful. I believe we did have guests for dinner. An assortment of gentlemen gathered, as men sometimes do when there is talk of a "guy's weekend,"an unofficial "pot luck dinner" was assembled, and as I recall there were plenty of refreshments on hand as well. The later part of the evening brought lively and spirited political and philosophical debate amongst some of my colleagues gathered around the fire. As the intensity of the debate grew, it seemed to flow and eventually move to an indoor venue...closer to the bar! As I said, the evening was uneventful, meaning there was no furniture broken, and no one required medical attention.
While fishing the next morning with Nick, I generously took some time to coach the lad, demonstrating correct casting, presentation, hook setting and landing. Purposefully I saw to it that the subject of the lesson was a small, unobtrusive speciman, so as not to unduly excite my pupil and have him distracted from my teachings.
As it turned out, much like the earlier lesson involving the camera, the lad seemed to pick up complicated instruction from me pretty quick! 
