Let me say, at the outset, I'm not a car guy. My dad's philosophy was "If I turn the key and it starts, that's all I need to know." Growing up in the icy bluffs of Wisconsin, getting the car started was often challenge enough. Sometimes you'd turn the key and the car would actually say "What? Are you nuts? I'm not going out in this weather." And, that was in June.

Car terms throw me, too. "Cammy," which I think is auto lingo, sounds like something a toddler calls the least favorite of his two grandmas...unless you are called "Cammy," then it would be the most favorite. If you tell me you've got a "hemi" I would probably recommend you see your gastrointestinal specialist. I used to hear people talk about their car's "grill." The only way I knew that that was on the front of the car was from CB radio talk about "had steak on the grill about five miles back" which meant "I hit a cow."

A few blogs ago, I mentioned that sometimes kids at schools ask what kind of car I have...with two sons learning how to drive, I can now answer "Nervous." Really, they're hoping I have something cool out in the parking lot. There are some folks here at KMBC with fancy cars. I have never been a passenger in any of them, but, as per most of their contracts, I do have to change their oil every 3000 miles and wash them once a week...the cars, not the people.

Many people do have dream cars. My daughter thinks she wants a pink Beetle convertible. I think she'd be pulled over in a second for driving while too cute. My second son has mentioned a Maserati but I think that is more for the Joe Walsh song than the car...a guitar is cheaper and won't make my insurance rates reach Pluto. My youngest says he wants a car like mine, because I am the best driver and Dad in the world. Just because he says this right before he wants a pile of M&M's and control of the channel changer, doesn't mean it's not true. My cautious, older son would like a large, safe car preferably driven by someone else...with secret service running along side, if at all possible. My wife seems to like her van. It has everything she needs, usually rolling around the floor. I don't mean to imply that her car is messy but it is like trying to navigate in a Deffenbaugh dumpster. Once I came to a sudden stop and was covered by deposit slips, coffee cups, a couple library books, a massage table and a family of chipmunks.

As for me, I don't have a dream car in mind but I have one that holds a special place in my memory. I bought it my Freshman year of college for $300 from a kid who's dad was a minister so my mom felt it would be, in some way, a blessed transaction with guardian angels as standard equipment. It was an AMC Hornet Hatchback. Blue...not a deep royal blue or baby blue or, even, robin's egg blue...more of a Tidy-Bowl Man blue. But it also had a hand-painted black racing stripe along the side which didn't fool anyone into thinking it could go much above 55. Sometimes state troopers would pull me over just to laugh and point. It was a good car and it was paid for. I could change my own oil and do other things like replace the solenoid...some gizmo you need to start the car. When I was told it needed a new solenoid all I could think of was Captain Kirk breathlessly urging Scotty to push the engines to warp speed so the Klingons wouldn't get to steal the federation's solenoid and control the neutral zone...I really have watched too much TV in my time.

The beautiful part of the Hornet was that I could actually keep it running myself. Now, when I open the hood of a newer car, I swear I hear it laughing at me: "Go ahead...just try to find my battery, you dipstick."
The reason I got to thinking about cars in general today and the blue Hornet in particular,is because, on FirstNews, after a story about alternative fuels, the subject of Fred Flintstone's foot powered car came up. It reminded me that, on the Hornet, I actually could see more and more of the road below me as rust slowly ate away the floor of the car. Up north, when it comes to vehicles, rust is the fifth season of the year. Anyway, it was like a moon-roof's ugly cousin, and it added to the adventure of driving. Forget the Beetle, the Maserati, the Corvette. If you want driving enjoyment, get a Blue AMC Hornet and, if necessary, drill a hole in the floor. Yabba-Dabba-Doo!