Contest: Tell us a story about your father…because we've got some sweet swag from Meguiar's for the best ones

Meguiars Giveaway dual action power pack lead

Father’s Day is nearly upon us. Here at Hooniverse HQ we’re all taking some time to reflect on the father figures in our own lives, and we want you to do the same. No, we don’t expect you to simply listen to our orders… so we’ve brought some prizes out, and we think you’re going to like what we have to offer. Courtesy of our friends at Meguiar’s, we’ve been given not one, not two, but three prize packages to give away. We’ll get into more detail on the prizes after the jump because now it’s time to explain the contest.

In the comments below this post we want to hear your stories about your fathers or your father figures. Not just any stories, of course, but the tales that turned you down the path of becoming the lover of all things automotive that you now travel along. Perhaps you have strong memories of spinning wrenches with the old man, or you remember that time your favorite uncle came over to show his newest automotive acquisition. Maybe your memory is instead of the time your pops busted up the family hauler and you two worked together to get it running right again. Whatever sticks out in your memory, that’s the story that we want to hear about.

We’re going to stick to the standard comment system of voting. Upvote your favorite stories, and that’s how we’ll determine 3rd, 2nd, and the 1st place winners. Now… let’s chat about the prizes, shall we?

Meguiars Giveaway 3rd prize

The 3rd place winner will receive a three-pack of Meguiar’s Micro-fiber towels, a tube of Meguiar’s Black Wax, and a tube of Meguiar’s White Wax. The black stuff is for dark-colored cars and the white-stuff should be used on the lighter-colored machines. The towels are good for pretty much everything.

Meguiars Giveaway 2nd Prize

The 2nd place winner gets the same towel three-pack and the two tubes of wax, but we’re now adding in the new Dual Action Power System. This is a wax system that you attach to your drill, and it promises that you can wax your whole car in 30 minutes time. See? The video guy says so…

[youtube width=”720″ height=”405″][/youtube]

mequiars giveaway detail

For the person garnering the most upvotes on their story, we’re awarding you the 1st place winner package. Take a look at the image at the top of this story. That’s what you’re getting. It’s the three-pack of towels, the Dual Action Power System, and, instead of the two tubes of wax, you get the DA Compound, DA Liquid Wax, and DA Polishing kits that go with the Dual Action Power System. All told, this is probably worth about $3,502 dollars (or maybe it all retails for about $100… we’re not mathamatorians over here).

So there you have it dear Hoons. It’s time to start thinking about your stories and getting them in place below. The contest will remain active through Monday June 10th. That way we have enough time to ship off the goods to make the winners feel that much more special come Father’s Day. You don’t have to be a father to win though, heck you don’t even need to know who you’re father is/was… we assume everyone had some sort of father figure in their life though.

If not… um, we’ll have a contest for you later in the year.

A big thanks to Meguiar’s for sending over these prizes and supporting this contest!

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53 responses to “Contest: Tell us a story about your father…because we've got some sweet swag from Meguiar's for the best ones”

  1. desolit Avatar

    He is a nice guy but awkward as a dad. He left when i was two. I saw him once a year for Thanksgiving dinner until I was old enough to be into cars. Cars and car shows were what brought him into my life and gave me a chance to know my dad. The greatest thing he taught me was how not to be a dad. Which makes me an overly active, loving, and attentive father now to my 6 year old little girl. Because of him, she now has the dad that all of her friends want as their own dad. Is he the worlds greatest dad?…. not so much. However, he taught me the greatest version of 'learn from my mistakes' anyone could have ever learned.

    1. B72 Avatar

      Amen brother! Modesty aside, the only thing better than having a good dad is being a good dad!

    2. Boss302Head Avatar

      Desolit–your post really resonated with me. I too had an absentee father. And whenever my wife (who had a very active dad) asks me what its like I tell her that sometimes in life its equally important (if not more so) to know what you DON'T want to be. Now that I have my son, I'm trying (because let's face it, it is an everyday commitment we make to our families) to be the dad I would have wanted. As for my love of cars, my uncle (through marriage no less) was the father-figure who turned me into a gearhead.

  2. krazykarguy Avatar

    My dad always made sure to involve me with most auto-related stuff at home from an early age. While he wasn't changing transmissions and timing belts, he did most of his own basic maintenance work, and instilled upon me a great working knowledge of all things mechanical. I even got to have the esteemed responsibility of keeping the washer fluid tanks topped off – the joy! Popping the hood, locating the correct cap to pry off, and filling it up with that glorious blue fluid was almost always the highlight of my weekend.
    Over the years, my dad continued to show me his wrenching tips and tricks, and eventually dragged home a derelict 1950 Massey Ferguson T020 tractor that we restored together. We're currently restoring a 1965 Jag E-Type, very slowly.
    When I moved out of the house, I made sure to get jobs that would allow me to continue refinement of my mechanical abilities. I worked at a Saab/Mazda/Suzuki (how's that for a weird product mix??) dealership for almost five years, and could be found under and around the cars being serviced more often than behind the parts desk or in the wash bay. I learned from my father that the best way to pick up a new skill is to simply do it. At this point, the only car-related services that I entrust another mechanic to undertake are tires (don't have a changer/balancer), A/C recharging (again, lacking expensive equipment), and inspections (no state license or official shop). Throughout the years, my skills have been honed and refined, and my father now relies on me to "work on [his] newfangled electronic cars". At this point in my 'career', I have very little issues with diving into an auto repair project, whether it's changing the oil or changing a clutch.
    I have my father to thank – not only for getting me excited for cars early on, but showing me how to do stuff – hands on. I have a 2 1/2 year old boy at home, and he is car crazy, too. He saw his first F1 race recently, and some of his first multi-syllable words were "Ferrari" and "Lamborghini". He is super interested when I am out in the garage working, and loves all things automotive. A Hoon, through-and-through (even though he doesn't know much about hooning yet). We have done donuts in Mommy's Pilot, and he left that experience both bewildered and enthralled. I hope that he will only continue to blossom into a big car nut, just like I always have been.
    Then, and only then, can I claim that Hoonivism is a genetically-acquired trait.

  3. danleym Avatar

    The first car I remember my dad having was a ~65 (I was really little, ok? I don't remember the exact year) Rambler American. So my AMC love started at a young age. I remember sitting in the garage when he was working on the Rambler, and though I was too young to help him on the car, I would prop my tricycle up and use his wrenches to take all the wheels off and put them back on. Seems silly, but to me I was working on my wheels while my dad was working on his.
    (splitting up because apparently it's too long)

    1. danleym Avatar

      Part II:
      As I got older I started actually learning about how to work on cars. The Rambler got wrecked (drunk driver, dad was OK), and he had a few other cars come and go (a late 60s Impala and an early 80s Celica hatchback are two of the more noteable ones). At some point he got a 74 Javelin strictly as a hobby car. I learned a lot of what I know about cars on that car. I remember the first time he had a problem he was trying to solve, and actually asked me if I had an idea of how to fix it. I was 12- this was a huge deal to me, because up to that point my dad was the end all be all of automotive knowledge, and the fact that he would ask me what I would do showed me how highly he thought of me. Furthermore, he actually used my suggestion.

      1. danleym Avatar

        Part III:
        He sold the Javelin a year or two later, and bought an 81 Spirit as a drag car. Shortly after that, he bought me a basket case 80 Spirit as a project car. I was 14. We spent the next 3+ years worth of weekends and evenings after school working on restoring that car, and I ended up with a pretty awesome car and an invaluable base of automotive knowledge. I still have the car now (kind of odd being 26 and being able to say you've had the same car for 12 years). I will never sell that car- not because I think an AMC Spirit is the absolute pinnicle of cars (though I do have a genuine love for all Spirits, Eagles, Gremlins, etc.), but because of all the memories of working on that car with my dad.

        1. danleym Avatar

          Intense Debate is stupid. My comment has to be shorter than karkrazyguy's. It wouldn't even let me post parts II and III together.

          1. krazykarguy Avatar

            Upvoted! lol

          2. OA5599 Avatar

            Ordinarily, when I have a too-long comment, I copy the text of it, delete all but the first couple of lines, post it, and then immediately edit it by pasting the full comment. Today, for some reason, that isn't working for me, and it's triggering a different error.

          3. Vairship Avatar

            Did you forget to upgrade to Hooniverse Gold?

  4. Devin Avatar

    In terms of a specific story.
    Once, my dad took the whole family to the opening of a nearby bed and breakfast. They were having this big heritage day thing, with tours of the house they shipped in – my mom loves that kind of thing – various heritage things, a farmer's market – we took home a big fluffy cat! – and so on. One of the things was old car rides from the local antique automobile society, and since everyone knew I liked cars they figured that would be a highlight for me.
    One of the cars was a Monarch from the '40s. My dad thought the car looked familiar, and paid very close attention to it when it drove by and decided that we would have to get a closer look at that specific car. Finally, when we got to meet the owner, my dad asked him who he bought it from. It was an odd question, but it had a purpose, because my dad was trying to figure out if that Monarch was the old family car, and he knew who they sold it to back in the day.
    Turns out it actually was the family Monarch, so the entire drive was dad telling everyone the various misadventures everyone had gotten into in that car. It had carried grain, it had carried very drunk uncles, it had taken them on trips and it was a pretty major part of his adolescence. So the car was the catalyst for learning about all of those stories from his teenage years that just hadn't come up before. I can't think of a better example of how a car can connect to important parts of your life than driving around in that Monarch, listening to the stories of a couple old guys who were connected to it at different points in their lives.

  5. LTDScott Avatar

    I have learned a lot of things from my dad, but my love of cars and mechanical ability can't be credited to him. In my case, I think it's more nature than nurture, as one of my uncles was an aircraft mechanic, and another was a mobile auto mechanic and amateur racer. So I choose my dad's influence to be more cautionary than inspirational, as I have seen him make some bonehead mistakes. Let's run down a short list:
    -Bought a Fiat 124 Sport Coupe, and didn't know it had a 5 speed transmission (instead of 4) for several months into ownership because the owner's manual was in French (no, not Italian) and there were no shift patterns on the car.
    -Smashed the rear glass hatch on his '86 C20's camper shell three times by accidentally leaving it open and then backing out of the garage. The handle on the hatch caught on the metal tension rod on the garage door and stretched the frame until the glass fell out.
    -Got a concussion from working under the hood of the same Chevy in the garage. He had the hood lifted only part way to clear the same garage door mentioned above, and when he moved the truck while working on it, the hood fell on his head.
    -Got a flat tire on the side of the freeway in the middle of the desert in the summer, and then tried to jack up the truck while it was sitting on a soft embankment. As soon as the tire got off the ground, the jack sunk in and the truck almost fell over. He would have been screwed if not for the help of a Caltrans worker who jacked the truck back up for him.
    -Launched our runabout boat into a lake in Texas without putting the drain plug in. I was driving the boat while he was parking the truck and trailer, so I was smart enough to turn on the bilge pump and drive the boat around so all the water would slosh into the back end. Once he found the drain plug, I got close to shore while he waded into the water and put it in the boat.
    There are plenty of other non-automotive related examples (like the time he met my former in-laws for the very first time at Thanksgiving, where he accidentally broke a chair, fell on his back, and snapped the zipper on his pants, which my mom and I had to safety pin back together), but this just goes to show that cars have never been his strong suit. In addition, most of his car choices have been relatively uninspiring, although I credit my love of boxy Fords to the Aussie 1980 Ford Fairmont Ghia I grew up with. But I still love the old bloke, and I owe a lot to him.

    1. Alff Avatar

      Your Dad isn't the only one to pull that little stunt with the pickup canopy. Fortunately, I only did it once (so far).

      1. danleym Avatar

        I know a guy locally who did that with his realy nice Gremlin pulling it out of his enclosed trailer. He was not happy.

  6. Gooberpeaz Avatar

    My dad is not a car guy. My first car was a 1962 Olds Cutlass with about a kabillion miles on it. I got it because he basically said it's this or nothing. Besides it was a buddy of his that was selling it. I handed over my $225.00 in cash and I was driving. My little bother was my mom's favorite so she goaded my dad into co-signing (!) note at the bank so he could get the car I wanted – an MGB. Not new, but a nicer car than my beater.
    I could tell dad felt bad about it but hey, She Who Must Be Obeyed, right?
    25 years later, I've got a wife, kids, mortgage, a couple of boring Japanese econoboxes – the American dream. I get a call from dad asking if he can store something in my garage. Sure. Minutes later, he and my brother show up in a tatty MGB. Dad bought it as a gift and then underwrote the renovation costs. I supplied the labor.
    I've had the car now about 18 years. Dad rode in it once. He had a stroke recently that keeps him from doing things like that anymore, but he always asks about "the little MGB".
    Damn, I need to go for a drive.

    1. danleym Avatar

      That's awesome. +1, more if I could.

  7. Irishzombieman☆ Avatar

    My dad was a mechanic all the years of my life. Some of my best early memories are of heading over to the local Chrysler-Dodge dealership after school and walking through the service garage looking for him. I shall never forget the way the spring-loaded door slammed or the way it made the secretary look up through the office glass and smile at me, and I'm transported back to that place every time I smell grease and gasoline together.
    When I was eight or nine, Dad bought an old Ford Falcon, pulled, rebuilt and sold the motor, then put the car up on blocks and gave me and my younger brother Tony a box of yard sale tools. "Have at it," he said. "Put the nuts and bolts in this bucket and all the parts you take off in the trunk.
    It didn't take long for Tony and I to strip everything easy off the car. Then we started on harder stuff. The day we pulled the hood off, Tony nearly lost the fingers of his left hand. Another day we took apart the steering linkage, both of us standing in the empty engine bay so we could use a 16-pound sledgehammer together to bang the linkage apart. Later we moved all the parts to the back seat and taught ourselves how to escape from a locked Ford Falcon trunk.
    After the car had gotten pretty bare, we decided to get the transmission. It was way too heavy for us to drop ourselves, so we stacked up chunks of 2×4 lumber beneath it, removed the fasteners, then knocked the wood out piece by piece with a smaller sledge hammer. Finally we dragged it out from beneath the car with ropes and neighbor kids, then took it apart on top of a tarp to keep it from getting dirty. I'll never forget, ever, the joy of seeing the thing's guts and realizing just how it worked.
    When dad got home that night, I thought he'd be really excited about what we accomplished, but the look on his face was oddly mixed, like he was really proud of us for doing what we'd done, but horrified that we'd wrecked a perfectly good Ford 3-speed. Finally he said, “Didn’t think you’d be able to get that out.” Then he slapped me had on the shoulder and smiled.
    Dad died in 2001, but even now, better than a decade later, I find myself picking up the phone to call him when I get stuck on some repair. I could tell a thousand car stories about him, but that Falcon he gave me and Tony is the basis of my love of diving into the mechanical unknown, the root of my desire for greasy hands and banged knuckles, and the genesis of my ability to escape locked trunks (more useful than one might think). Thanks, Dad, for that Ford, and for the smile on the day we bagged the transmission.

  8. racer139 Avatar

    My dad hummmmm… Well he is a burned old dope feind and he left when I was 1.
    My grandfather on the other hand was always there. My earliest memories are sitting on his knee and steering his old white ecnoli.e van. He taught me how to read with his road and track mags, showed me how to keep my bike working properly, tune up an engine, make patch panels and whole body panels on an 80 toyota diesel pickup he had. The list is long and covers alot of subjects and without his guidance early in life who knows how I would have turned out. Thanks grandpa.

    1. Jeff Glucker Avatar
      Jeff Glucker

      upvote for gramps

  9. OA5599 Avatar

    It was a sunny day when my dad heard the news. He had been trying to collect parts for a project Packard, and one of the Packard club members told him about a treasure trove of cars that was about to flood the market.
    There was a junkyard about a 10-hour round trip away. For 40 or 50 years, the owner of the junkyard scrapped out the "regular" cars, but set the particularly interesting ones aside, without removing any parts. Several of these cars were uncrashed, and driven to the yard under their own power, victims of being out of fashion at the time they were sold by the pound. A charged battery, some fresh gas, and air in the tires was all these machines needed to be returned to life, although they might still require cosmetic freshening.

    1. Jeff Glucker Avatar
      Jeff Glucker

      I need your mailing address please.
      email me

  10. OA5599 Avatar

    Dad ended up with a nice collection of early iron, but as life went on and various financial situations occurred, he would sell a car or two until he got down to the one remaining vehicle from that experience. He plans on leaving it for my son, who is now older than I was when he hauled it home.

  11. OA5599 Avatar

    The junkyard extended for acres and acres, and there was a lot of property for saving cars. The more unique cars, such as the Deusenberg and the curved dash Olds sat inside buildings to be sheltered from the elements. The lesser classic cars – prewar Cadillacs, Lasalles, Packards, and Lincoln-Zephyrs, as well as hundreds of postwar cars – were scattered throughout the property, 8 or 12, or even 16 Cylinders at a time. Nothing was particularly rusty.
    When the owner of the place died, he had willed it to his nephew, subject to the condition that the collection couldn't be sold until the young beneficiary reached his 26th birthday. Meanwhile, the property was condemned for a highway construction project. There was a six or seven week window of opportunity between the guy's birthday and the date the bulldozers were scheduled to push the road through.

  12. OA5599 Avatar

    The nephew made my dad an incredible offer: everything in the yard for the price of the Deusey. Of course, even then, before the market had run up to stratospheric levels, a Deusenberg was still about 10 times the value of our house, and seemed like all the money in the world, so he had to decline. My dad did negotiate for several individual cars, most of which he purchased at three-figure prices, as-is, where-is.
    We spent a lot of time there over the next few weekends. Each trip he would go up with a buddy, a chain saw, a small roll of hundreds, and his hoon-in-the-making, me. They would spend the mid-day extracting two cars from the overgrowth, and bring them home. Monday morning the cars would be listed for sale in the newspaper's classifieds, and by Friday, at least one would be sold to finance the next weekend's run. We would leave home before sunrise, and I would always fall asleep during the return trip, long before reaching my own bed.

  13. OA5599 Avatar

    Dad ended up with a nice collection of early iron, but as life went on and various financial situations occurred, he would sell a car or two until he got down to the one remaining vehicle from that experience. He plans on leaving it for my son, who is now older than I was when he hauled it home.

    1. Alff Avatar

      What is it? Which one is the keeper?

      1. OA5599 Avatar

        41 Cadillac limo.

  14. muthalovin Avatar

    I would have probably become a first rate chef if it wasn’t the influence of my father. My mom was a decent cook, and when she let me, I would always try new things, experiment and both of us would really enjoy my handiwork in the kitchen. My mom and I, that is. My dad, how shall I put it? Had an extreme dislike for anything out of the ordinary. Well, on the dinner plate, that is.
    Dad got me into cars, bikes and trucks at an early age. If we were not in a land with traffic laws, I would have been one of those babies in a basic going 50 down the busy highway. Dad put me on a bike early in life, and I have never looked back. I think I was probably 5 when he started riding with my on the pillion seat. I remember telling him to do wheelies. It was just so much fun. Sure, that sounds like irresponsible parenting, but isn’t it responsible to bond with your kids?
    Pop’s let me ride his toy bike, a YSR-50 around the block. I remember having so much fun, thinking I was the biggest badass in the ‘hood. I was 12. I may have gotten beat up, sure, but damnit, I could ride a motorcycle! At 15 he let me graduate to his toy Ninja 250. I rode that to all my friends houses. Pop’s put a lot of trust in me, considering I hadn’t even obtained a learners permit.
    After I graduated from college 2 years behind, I had to move in with my parents. Yeah, I set that trend. After 6 months, I finally found a job. Part-time. As the year progressed, I ended up at my friends house every night, drinking. My parents did not really care for my depression and attitude, and my dad sat me down and gave me an ultimatum: get a real job, move out, find a woman, and get a goddamn life already! Do those things, and I will let you have my motorcycle.
    That, thankfully, inspired me. I moved out, found a wonderful woman, got a real job and a real goddamn life. I owe my dad a lot for that. The Monster is just icing on the cake.
    Thanks dad! You rock!
    <img src="; width=550>

      1. Irishzombieman☆ Avatar

        Betcha it's going to cost you an NSX to get her out of your house.

        1. muthalovin Avatar

          I got a job, but not that good a job.

  15. Alff Avatar

    I owe my love of cars and, indirectly, what little wrenching ability I have to my father. My earliest car memory dates to when I was three. Dad sold Chevrolets at the time, and would often drive whatever cool iron the dealership had taken in trade. On this particular day, he came home in a beautiful blue split-window 'Vette. Mom's blue over blue '67 RS/SS Camaro was parked behind it, followed by my grandmother's blue Malibu SS convertible. Even at that age, I knew that collection of cars was something special.
    Over the years that followed, our driveway was home to a succession of interesting Volvos, Fiats, Datsun Zs and one Porsche 911. Often, as in the case of the Fiat 131, he'd get rid of something when he tired of the repair bills.

    1. Alff Avatar

      The Fiat is responsible for my most significant car/dad story, as he took me to cross-shop the Italians when he bought it. He and I really wanted an Alfa Spider but it was impractical. Dream became reality in 1995, when I bought my '84. Remembering his experience with Fiat, he told me, "You'll regret it, and sell it within a year because it will be too expensive to keep running". I promised myself then and there that I would prove him wrong by learning to work on it myself and keep it a long time. Dad never had much faith in me and I wanted to show him I could be better than he thought I was. Eighteen years later, I drive that same car year round and have repaired or replaced every system at least once. I've come to love that POS for what it is; my continued ownership no longer has anything to do with trying to prove a point.
      Thanks, Dad. I love you.

  16. MVEilenstein Avatar

    My dad was quite literally my hero when I was a kid. I really thought he was the biggest, strongest man around, and he could fix anything. Turns out I was mostly right, as he kept our worn out fleet of Oldsmobiles, Chevys, and the occasional MOPAR on the road more often than not (Dad is not a Ford man!).

    1. MVEilenstein Avatar

      Dad taught me to appreciate the value of doing my own work on my own cars. I'm not really good at it, and I screw up a lot even today, but the finished product is infinitely more gratifying than forking over my hard-earned cash to a mechanic who fixes issues, rather than solves problems. He taught me how to change the oil, change the brakes, change a radiator, even change an engine (he built a hoist out of some massive pieces of wood, a heavy chain, and a pulley). I don't always need to do those things now, but the skills are there.
      Dad taught me to believe that hard work is a manly trait, and that providing for a family, no matter how hard, is always the right thing to do as a man. Dad worked a lot of hours for a lot of years at some tough jobs, but he did it because it was the right thing to do. He knew better times would come, and he knew the value of looking ahead. He is still my hero, and one of my best friends.

      1. MVEilenstein Avatar

        Dad might not even realize all this, and he might not even think about it that much; but believe me, his sons realize it. One of us is a better dad for it, and one of us is still a better husband for it.
        P.S. I introduced Dad to the Hooniverse last year; he sticks his head in here once in a while and usually leaves a comment. If he does, I hope you'll all give papamarc a big howdy and a pat on the back.

        1. MVEilenstein Avatar

          P.P.S. IntenseDebate sucks today.

  17. LeDominic Avatar

    My dad is a bit of an excentric nutcase. I remember like yesterday, a trip around 1990 in a BMW 745 Turbo from Alicante to Granada, in the South of Spain, in the times there where no motorways in that area (Puerto Lumbreras-Murcia), hitting the humps of the tens of little bridges that drain water from the roadside, flat out. Yeahhhh !!!, that BMW could get really close to about 250 km per hour (circa 160 miles an hour). The car was most of time in the air, and each time it landed, it sent a shower of sparks from the back. I pissed myself with laughter, when i saw the sparks in my passenger mirror.
    In another situation, my dad did a deal for a rental company, and he sold them a brand new fleet of SEAT'S. He had to transport circa 300 SEAT's from Valencia to Alicante to the rental company, so he gave driving jobs to all of his friends, and made many people happy for a few days and weeks sending them to collect brand new cars in Valencia, and drive them back to Alicante. Nobody had sold such a big fleet in the area in one operation.
    And my last story is more or less recent. I went to visit him with a friend, and he impressed her doing a 'Bladerunner' cruising at 100 miles an hour, changing lanes smoothly but very quickly, and listening to classic music in his brand new Q car, a leasing company car, in a discreet tone. He was near his 70th birthday, but that did not stop him from trying to chat her up-he knew we where just friends sharing a day trip to Malaga. She was quite impressed with his lack of respect for speed restrictions, and how well he controlled his car, in a relaxed manner, like someone cruising at 60 miles an hour.
    He hates motorbikes, so i have been a motorbiker all my adult life.
    By the way, he has NEVER had a driving licence, just wet pieces of paper he gets from all around the world. Not bad for someone who has driven several million kilometres in his whole life, and owned more cars then Peter Sellers.
    Thanks Dad, for leaving Classic and Sportscar mags in the bathroom, Dupont Registry, Top Gear, etc, etc, etc…

  18. JayP2112 Avatar

    Dad wasn't a car guy- not like you have to be today. In the 50's and 60's, there was nothing else to do but hang out at the garage, brag and show off.
    He was a machinist, like his dad. Through the years he became management but took on teaching the Machine Shop class at the vocational school. This was all during the CAD-CAM beginnings that for a 12 yr old kid seemed "not PacMan" but was actually fascinating. I wish I'd paid better attention.
    What do machinists dig? Tools. Dad had tools from his dad that would make OSHA puke. He still has them in the garage at the house I grew up in. He has all kinds of felt lined wooden boxes with glorious tools that would give any gearhead a case of the vapors.
    I didn't dig on cars until I was driving. I loved it and everything driving meant. Mom and dad bought me that orange SuperBeetle when I earned my Eagle Scout award. It seemed like cheap money today… $1300 in '86. Today's cash that is a sum. It was always needing attention. Like does this plug line need to be attached to anything? I was clueless. Dad gave me a feeler gauge to set the points. He tried to convince me I needed to set the points for the gal down the street. Yes, he did that to me.
    The starter on the Beetle was junk and we chased problems for months. The night before a VW caravan to the RodRun in Pigeon Forge, it tanked. I gave up and told mom it didn't matter. She said dad wanted me to go. He worked in the rain until midnight trying to get that car fixed. He didn't need to bother. I didn't understand why he did it for a long time.
    Dad is a regular guy. But to sum everything he taught me over the years- Be a man of your word. Take care of your tools. And if looking at her will make you blind, risk an eye on a peek.
    I've been though some rough crap and dad never doubted me. He really had been a caring dad and granddad.
    Honestly, if I can be half the dad to my son as dad was to me, I'd be a damn good dad.
    And I thought I'd never get to show off these pics…
    <img src="; width="400">
    Dad kickin' it in brown slacks.
    <img src="; width="400">

  19. adrian Avatar

    My father was into motorcycles before he came to the US, he would be constantly buying and selling them, after he got into an accident and got over motorcyles. He always tells me about how much fun they were but he wont let me think about getting one for myself. When he came over to america he had a lot of different cars like supercharged Bonnevilles and later Nissan 300sx. He was the first one to get me interested in cars and engines, to this day I remember almost everything he told me about different engines and cars. I remember being super excited when he told me that we were going to look at a certain car. He is always up to date on the latest cars, he takes great care of his cars and truly inspired me to love cars.

  20. panrvan Avatar

    My Dad was a machinist by trade, and an inventor in his dreams. He garage "invented" a liquid formula that made organic brake pads last so much longer…they would never wear down! He belived in personally testing "his products" on his own cars and for that ocassion it was a 10 year old 1963 Buick Riviera with drum brakes all around. After the brake pads were left in the formula for a few days, and they became nice and moist, he installed them, and we promptly went for a test drive. Now you can surely imagine what happened next. We got on a freeway, on a downhill section doing more than 100 MPH when he decided to panic stop that big Riviera, for the ultimate product test. I was 13 years old then, 53 now, and I have never seen quite so much smoke come out from the wheel wells of even a NASCAR racer!! When the police showed up, he blamed the @#$% brake job on some brake shop, and the officer just left!! Then we got back in the car to drive home, he turned around to me and said: The Formula needs a little tweaking don't you think…Dad I hope the smoke from the formula gets mixed up with the clouds in heaven…

  21. MarkT Avatar

    After I creased the entire drivers side of his beloved 72 longroof catlina (arctic blue!) after sneaking it out 3 weeks before I was old enough to get a license, he taught me my hardest learned lesson. No, emptying my bank account of the years of scraping up 1000$ for a car, wasn't the lesson (but it was a heart breaker). Neither was the "ride of shame" to the scene of the crime, the body shop, and to my best friends house (to clue his Dad into what we had been doing over the summer). It wasn't even the prolonged wait from July to December before I was allowed to get my license. What he taught me was that you can F-up, and still be trusted, as he sent me out in a blinding snowstorm across i90 to Geneseo to fetch my Sister from college the next winter. When he was asked by my stepmom if sending me out was a good idea, i overheard him say "of course, he's been stealing my car since he was 14, he knows how to drive". Thanks Lou!

    1. Jeff Glucker Avatar
      Jeff Glucker

      haha, that's a good one

  22. gregrandolph Avatar

    My dad, who passed away last year, (just before fathers day), gave me my love of cars. From the time I was born up until he went to the hospital, he had a love of cars, and owned several hot rods, muscle cars, and 67-72 Chevy trucks. Some of the cars he owned include, a 56 Delray with a 300 ci bus engine, triple carbs 4 spd, 64 Falcon Sprint, 65 Impala SS, 72 Maverick Grabber, Starsky&Hutch Torino, hot rodded Pinto (had lots of Cosworth parts), several 67-72 Chevy trucks, Fox body Mustangs, and a few bikes as well.
    My dad drag raced in the mid 60's through the 70's, and in the 80's through about a year before he died, did csr shows. It was during the 80's when I started driving that toghther we grew close, my brother played sports, so he spent time coaching his little league and pee wee football teams. Anyway, for my 15th birthday, we got my first car, a 1969 Mercury Cougar. It had a 428CJ, with a 4spd. We spent the next year and a half semi restoring that car, during that time, Dad helped me pull the engine, and supervised as I rebuilt it. He also worked lots of overtime to make the money to invest in that car. When we finished the car right before my senior year of school, he was changing the oil, and had a hard time getting the filter off, so he asked for a hammer and screwdriver to get filter loose, so I grabbed the hammer, and pitched it to him landing right on top of the freshly painted drivers fender. Needless to say at 17 I got one more butt whipping, but he never complained, he just carrief car back to body shop.
    As I grew older, and made my own decisions about my car/truck choices, he never gave me a hardtime, and he would always be the first to drive them (well after me). I remember the last true hit rod I had, my parents went to vacation, and when the came back, I had the car tore down, putting in cams, supercharger, headers, etc. Dad never said anything, Momma on the other had went ballistic, (perhaps it was because the car was less than 6 months old).
    A few years later I got married, and moved out, sold the hot rodded Mustang, and got a family car, Dad bought a bike, and they started camping. He enjoyed that, bought keep looking at old trucks. About 6 yrs ago we went to Pigeon Forge for a family vacation, and saw a 72 Chevy Super Cheyenne for sale and Dad, decided to buy it. We went and rented a uhaul dolley and pulled it back home. Over the 3 yrs we worked on that truck. I built the engine for it, did the suspension, and wired up a modern sound system for it. When the truck was done it was just like1987, except no hammer, we stood back had a beer and just admired the beauty. Together, we showed that truck all over the area, bringing home several trophys.
    When my dad started falling ill, the next year, he decided to sell the truck, I think he knew he would not be here much longer, and his health was really going downhill.
    The last time my Dad rode with me was in my current car, a 2012 Dodge Challenger, I don't know who was happier him or me. Just a short time later, he was bsck in the hospital this time though he never came home. We lost him June 13th of last year he was 63. While we were getting things ready for his funeral, we used pics of some of the things that brought us together as a family, from pics if us at shows, ball games, etc. We also placed two diecast cars with him one of a model of the last truck he had, the other a car he always wanted 1967 Chevelle SS.
    There is not a day that goes by that I don't think of him, in someway. And I will always thank him for the knowledge he gave me, and the will to get things done, and the pride of doing things yourself. Whether it is a simple oil change to talking harder projects, like my current, restoring my graduation gift, a 89 Mustang. Thanks Daddy for all the hard work you done to not only supply our needs but our wants as well, thanks for the lessons learned, good and bad, and most of all thanks for giving me the love and appreciation of cars, trucks, and bikes, whether the be new or old, ratted out or modded out, I love ya and miss ya.

  23. LeDominic Avatar

    Did i tell you all that my father also tried to introduce Dutton Kit cars to the spanish market, and mini excavators, plus he owns a small fleet of rental trikes, from a dutch company called Trigger?. The Trigger is a 90cc thing that looks like a modern Morgan, just that it has the engine at the back.
    I drive a Tuk Tuk i bought in Bangkok for a living, in down town Granada city. I think he has really influenced me in the strange car-bike department !!!

  24. lilwillie Avatar

    I don't know the specific date but I believe he was around 20-21. This was the early 70's and Dad was back from being in the Army for 3 years. My Grandfather was deceased so Dad ran the farm and his mother worked nights. Well, when night fell all the guys around our small town came out to our farm to party it up. There was a motorcyle club that was formed in the Barn. The sign is still hanging in the barn, I refuse to take it down because it is so cool. They also worked on cars and drank lots and lots of Beer.
    One night, like many, they were having a good time. There is a 4 acre field just South of the Barn that isn't used for much so they had turned it into a race track after crops were picked. I can't even recall the car they were driving but it was GM, early 50's….Anyway, they had the car loaded with drunk guys and they were racing around the dirt oval as fast as they could to try and roll the car. Why roll the car you ask? It was pretty beat up and ready for the salvage yard so they thought they would finish it off. They keep making lap after lap after lap and couldn't roll it. Then they figured out what was wrong. They shifted the "fat" guys over to the passenger side of the car and went out for another lap. The very first corner they rolled it over.
    Amazingly no one was hurt. They destroyed the car. The next day they hauled the car away but the hood of the car remains. It is now behind the Barn, in the brush and is bent out of shape. We make a point to have a very clean and well keep Farm because we do a lot of recreational sports (blowing stuff up) there but the hood will remain in that spot and every time Dad is out there and walks past the hood you can see him reliving his youth. If you ask him about it he will tell the story for you, for the thousandth time. Every time they drive a little faster, roll a little further and were a little drunker then the previous time. This is also one reason I can't recall the specifics of the story because it gets better and better every time he tells it.

  25. Pedro Campuzano Avatar
    Pedro Campuzano

    Pop bought a 67 Benz 230 sedan in the early 70s, had a hole in the piston. The doctor that owned it and his wife were quite upset but my dad said he'd buy and take care of Mr. Benz… they reluctantly decided to buy a new one. He fixed it, we kept the name and we drove the breaded schnitzel out of Mr. Benz… packed 4 kids, Grandma, 3 dogs and my patient parents in him and drove to Texas in the summer, no AC and pulling a trailer! Mr Benz became an power generator for my dad's foreign car shop when we couldn't come up with the cash for the light bill for the month. I learned to drive by sighting up that hood Star with the edge of the road. My Pop loved that car but Mr Benz developed an advanced case of rustitus and eventually had to be sold for parts. Thirty years on my wife spots an ad for a near twin brother of Mr. Benz in great drivable shape nearby, I have to buy it. Whenever I fire up the engine, smell the German interior and look at that Star perched on the hood I think of my Pop and the original Mr. Benz… I love that car.

  26. danleym Avatar

    By the way- to Jeff/whoever came up with this idea- it's great. I've enjoyed reading these comments more than anything else I've read on here. I'm a sucker for stories like these.

  27. RustyCSX Avatar

    My dad influenced me from the very beginning to be a gearhead. From the time when I was little, he would tell me all sorts of stories of his escapades from the heyday of the muscle car and street racing, and corrupted me with Hot Wheels, Matchbox cars, and later motorized nonsense like go-karts and minibikes. The best stories revolved around him and his friends and their cars, but one car in particular made him light up like a Christmas tree every time he mentioned it.
    Back in the late 1960's, when the muscle car era was in full swing, he traded his beater 1960 Fairlane sedan in on an interesting ride: a maroon 1966 Oldsmobile Cutlass Holiday Sedan. Yes, he bought a 4-door with bench seats. Why? Why in the heyday of such beasts as the Chevelle SS, GTO, Charger R/T, etc. would a young man with a need for speed get a mundane 4-door sedan? Well, this one was a little different. Some maniac ordered it from the factory with the high compression 320 hp 330ci V8 and a Muncie close ratio, Hurst-equipped, floor-shifted 4-speed. He found it on a used car lot for a good price because most 4-door buyers don't want a drivetrain like that. It was a true sleeper. He had to have it. After some tuning and some speed parts, the car was a proverbial wolf in sheep's clothing.
    My dad and his Cutlass would hang out near his house in suburban Boston. He just happened to live on the straightest road in town, and there was a gas station at one end where he would hang with his buddies, who had cars such as a 1969 Camaro SS, various Mopars, a mid-60's GTO, etc… The street was also the road that led to a nearby beach and amusement park, and lots of out-of-towners would roll through and get gas at the station in their cars. Sometimes, trash talk would ensue between my dad and his friends and the out-of-towners (many with their dates) and minutes later, they would be lining up on the street. About a 1/4 mile down, there was a mile marker that would serve as the finish line. They knew all the town cops, and they were well aware of their shenanigans. Sometimes, they would close the road for them or even participate in their personal cars! Different times indeed.
    My dad's Cutlass was always laughed at by people not in the know. "Did you borrow your mom's car?" they would taunt. "Nice car Grandpa!" they would say. But more times than not, the 4-door Holiday Sedan would pass that mile marker first. My mother would build onto the legend of that car, telling me every time that he talks about it that the car would scare the crap out of her.
    My dad always regretted selling that car. In the early 70's, he hurt his left leg and began to have knee problems, and his doctor said that having a car with a heavy duty clutch would only aggravate the injury, so he traded it in on a blue 1969 Pontiac LeMans Sport 2-door with a 350 H.O. and an automatic. He liked that car too, but it just wasn't the same.
    He went through many cars from that time until the present day, some interesting and some boring:
    -1970 Olds 98 Convertible (which was really my mom's)
    -1975 Datsun 710 (which he hated)
    -1982 Ford F150 XLT step side (nice truck with the 300 inline 6)
    -1984 or 85 Turbo Escort GT (when was the last time you saw one?)
    -1986 Olds 98 (fully loaded car that he ordered, and it even talked!!!)
    -1987 Dodge Dakota (total turd)
    -1992 Ford F150 4×4 Flare Side (with the stylish Nite package)
    -2008 Toyota Tundra (current ride, way faster than a big truck should be)
    To him, none of those vehicles compare to his Cutlass. He always told me that if you find a car and love it, never let it go. It was sage advice.
    To this day, I'm going on 11 years with my 1979 Trans Am and 3 years with my 1987 Shelby CSX. Every time I think about letting one go, I remember that 4-door sleeper and how my father wishes he had it back. My cars aren't going anywhere, for better or for worse.
    Thanks Dad.

    1. danleym Avatar

      That's a lesson I've learned from talking to a lot of older car guys. They all talk about some car they wish they still had. I decided early on I wasn't going to be that guy. I may forfeit some of the experiences I could have had with other cars, but I'm going to keep that one. I've had my 80 Spirit for 12 years now, and intend to have it for another 50 at least, if I make it that long.

  28. Emily Brook Avatar
    Emily Brook

    I have been working in the garage with my dad since I was about 3-4, being the youngest of 3 girls he was so happy I had interest in his projects. I remember being 4 and we were working on his 44' GPW Jeep I stuck the clutch in while he was busy and it started rolling down the driveway into the street and I was so excited I was driving but could see my dad and his friend running after me and jumping in to put on the break, they then had me steer it while they pushed it back. Then working on the same Jeep I was on standby with the fire extinguisher while they got it started. Durring my summers we would do projects on his vehicles and go camping with our 3wheeler and guns. Being taught to 4wheele drive at 12years old and having to push start my dad when the 3wheeler wouldn't start and digging the minivan out of soft sand.
    But my fathers favorite story now is the day I drove the S-10 Blazer into the side of the house…I had never driven stick and my dad just told me to put it in neutral and roll it to the street and pull the e-break. So I do that but it got so much momentum that it popped up on the curb, so he says "ok keep it in neutral and ill push u off and just let it roll back to the driveway" but as soon as he pushed it I released the clutch and it started the Blazer. With my dad screaming "PUT ON THE BREAK" I panic and hit the gas instead driving directly into the side of the garage and the garge door track. My father was screaming so loud my neighbors came out to check on us. Now at the time he was furious but knew it was his fault for not explaining the 3pedals to me.
    So many nights I would stay up till 3am working to instal sterios and new carpet kits and when he bought my 3wheeler we customized it and installed new parts. I have helped do 2 custom Camo paint jobs for his 77 suburban and the Blazer. We would take breaks and sit in some old jeep seats doing target practice with a blow dart gun. To this day my father will save stuff for me to do when I see him because "your hands are smaller and fit better" but I wouldn't have it any other way. I know so much and have shocked many people (mostly guys perplexed by my knowledge) by fixing something, finding a solution to their car problem, or finding an old part the mechanic couldn't locate. I look forward to many more years of working with my dad and customizing projects. He was and is the best father I could ask for.

  29. brucemcl Avatar

    My story is about a gift my cousin got for his dad, my uncle. This was around 1969 or 70. I was in High School, we had moved back to LA, about 45 minutes away from my uncle's house. Uncle Vic was definitely a car guy: had an XKE and a 38 Packard touring sedan. The first time I saw the Packard was when I was invited over to help pull the straight 8 engine. Heavy work! Other cars would come and go. For a while they had something brand new that looked kinda like a Jeep, but was made by Toyota. It said Land Cruiser on it, but I thought those were English…
    One day my cousin called and invited me to a car show about halfway between our houses. I met him there and we were both disappointed. It was a lowrider show – now the cars were beautiful, incredible paint and detail work, but just not what we were interested in. In one corner of the hall there was a guy with an easel and an airbrush, doing custom T-shirts and sweatshirts. Guys would describe their car for him and he'd paint it on the shirt, while a crowd watched him work. Impala, then BelAir, etc. etc.
    Cousin Mike decides he just might spend what seemed to me like an enormous amount of money on a sweatshirt for his dad – I think it was $40.00. Can the artist do a '38 Packard Touring Sedan? Sure, what colors? You want it chopped a little bit? And a few more questions about details. I remember Mike whispering running commentary to me as we stood next to the easel and watched the artist draw: "he's got the bumper trim just right, now he's got the red trim on the hubcaps just right…" The crowd watching was … a bit puzzled! 🙂
    The guy did a fantastic job. The sweatshirt was beautiful and funny as well, with "Packard" above the car in big letters, and "Ask the man who owns one." below. Uncle Vic loved that thing, even wore it to a Rotary Club meeting once as a gag. It was the perfect gift for my cousin's Dad.

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