- THE HOWLING (tires) -
This is a true story. It was provided to me by John, one of my car-fanatic friends in Virginia. This story should appeal to both kinds of people, those who passionately love muscle cars, and those who don't.
When my brother and I were enjoying our High School years, we got into
the awful habit of dawdling around the house in the morning, just taking
our time and doing whatever it was that teenagers did. This lack of
urgency on our part however caused us to miss the school bus on a fairly
regular basis. My mother eventually tired of the routine of having to
put down whatever it was that MOTHERS do in the morning to drive OUR
butts to school. So, one day Mom calmly informed us (during yet another
car trip to school), that the next time that we missed the bus we might
as well WALK the 6 or 7 miles to class, because she's "NOT going to put
up with this anymore!"
Several days pass... some important diversion causes us to miss the
school bus AGAIN (and we're SURE the bus came early that day)! My
brother and I debate the "walk to school" issue, and he decides that it's
best to follow orders, and proceed in the direction of the school on
foot.
After what seemed an eternity, I arrive at the front door to my
house, and humbly admit that I/we have once again missed the bus. My
mother snatches her keys off of the hall table, and storms out the door
to prepare for yet ANOTHER trip to the school. All the while small wisps
of steam are escaping from her eyes and ears (I'm not kidding...YOU
weren't there to see it).
All of the sudden, she realizes that there is
only ONE teenage moron standing at the car instead of TWO. She asks
(through her gritted teeth) "Where is your brother!?!?" I casually reply
"He started walking, like you said". (Let me ask you readers, have you
ever seen a "conniption fit"? I could now say that I have, but they are
not pretty.) My beloved mother erupted with more force than Mount Saint
Helens when it blew its top and devastated the entire countryside.
Remember when you watched cartoons and the poor guy drank Tabasco sauce
after swallowing a red hot chili pepper, and FIRE and SMOKE and BURNING
LAVA spewed from his eyes, nose, and mouth???? Mom made this look like a
sneeze.
She abruptly jammed her key into the ignition of my dad's work
beater car: a 1970 AMC Hornet 4 door, with a very anemic 6 cylinder up
front, and proceeded to do a burnout in front of our house that would
have made Don Garlits proud.
She furiously worked the clutch and shifter
to make that poor little Hornet sweat 10W30 like a race horse. Mom
managed to bark the tires in ALL 3 gears, and eventually screeched to a
stop on the road next to where my brother was walking. Mom then growled
"GET IN" to my brother in a voice that would make any axe murderer hop
right in to a waiting police car, and proceeded to again demonstrate her
stick shifting prowess. We had always kidded around that my Mom really
knew how to drive well (we eventually noticed that Mom & Dad ALWAYS
bought BIG BLOCK equipped Dodges and Plymouths for our family cars), but
this ride to school was like no other!
EPILOGUE:
Several years later, this story had somehow found its way to my Dad and
had become a rather amusing inside joke at our house. My Dad was cool
about it, but still really couldn't imagine MY Mom driving like THAT.
One summer evening, my brother and I and my future wife decide to meet my
parents at a nice little Italian restaurant in the suburbs of Pittsburgh.
For whatever reason we had decided to take our own car to the
restaurant, and go our separate way after dinner. After a tasty dinner,
we depart the restaurant. My parents drive off in their leathery-plush
318 powered LeBaron, and we follow in my brother's pristine '69 Plymouth
Road Runner that packs a really wicked 440 and a Hemi 4-speed underneath.
Without a word to us, my brother pulls alongside the passenger's side of
the LeBaron at the next traffic light, rolls down his window, and yells
"Hey Dad! Wanna know how Mom drove your Hornet the day we missed the
bus?" My future wife and I grin from ear to ear, Mom shrinks down in
the seat because she knows what's coming, and my brother tachs the Road
Runner's 440 up to about 6 grand and side-steps the clutch!!! The 440
snarls, tires howl and make billows of smoke fill the air just as if you
were standing next to the world's newest drag strip. The Road Runner
gets really squirrely and blisters the pavement for what seems like a
half mile, burns second, and barks third gear HARD and finally begins to
get some traction. We do manage to slow down for the next red light, and
as we stop and the smoke clears, Mom & Dad pull up in the LeBaron.......
Mom has a kind of "that was funny as hell, but I'm still gonna KILL you
later" look on her face, but Dad was almost crying he was laughing so
hard!!! We smugly say..."Really Dad...that's how she drove it!!!
Would WE lie!?!?!"