Dear Santa
Christmas was last week, and once again, there was no Lotus sports car under the tree. On the upside, you did leave me some socks and that nice carbon-fibre video-camera tripod.
But Santa, I do feel that our relationship has gone downhill, car-wise. The last truly boss automotive present you gave me was that wicked slot car set with the Monza Wall and Cheetah race car. That was in 1967. Maybe time is different up there at the North Pole, but down here, 44 years is a long time.
So Santa, it has to be asked: What have you done for me lately? I think you know the answer.
Now 2012 is upon us. And my New Year’s resolution is this: Carpe Diem, with an emphasis on Car.
I’m going to forget about Santa. I’m going to forget about luck. It’s all up to me. If I want a sports car (or another Monza Wall) I have to get it myself.
The life of a car buff involves a lot of waiting. You wait for Santa. You wait until you’re old enough to drive. You wait to get through university so you can buy a car. You wait to get a real job so you can buy a cooler car. Then the kids show up, you buy a house, and you’re just as broke as you were before, only with more paperwork and complications. So no cool car. Then you wait again, until the kids are raised and the house is paid for (unless you live in Toronto, where your mortgage follows you into the afterlife, but you get my point).
As Martin Luther King once said, ‘Wait’ means ‘never.’
So now I’m done with waiting. Four decades have passed since I got my driver’s licence. The kids are mostly raised. So this year I am going to knock off at least three of my vehicular ambitions.
The list includes (but is not limited to) buying a sports car, driving across Canada from coast to coast again, breaking the 200-mph mark (322 km/h in case you were wondering), rebuilding my garage, doing Mulholland Drive in a fast car instead of a rental, going to the Isle of Man Tourist Trophy race, driving a Formula One car, meeting Mario Andretti, driving to my little brother’s grave site in the Black Forest, lapping the Nurburgring, visiting a Formula One engineering shop, and touring the Porsche, BMW and Ferrari factories. (I would also like to cure the front-end wobble that has plagued our 2002 Honda Accord, but this may be too much to ask.)
Never mind – by this time next year, at least three items will be crossed off my list. Which items get done will depend on a few details (time, money, my wife’s schedule, etc.) – but I guarantee that the list will get shorter.
Years ago, I came to the conclusion that life was like running across a river on broken ice – you have to keep moving, or the piece you’re standing on will sink beneath you. That’s what pushed me to become an auto mechanic, then a writer, have two kids, buy and rebuild a house, learn welding, photography and scuba diving, study literature and economics, ski the mountains I read about as a little boy, learn how to use a table saw without cutting off my fingers and, most important of all, make off with my roommate’s girlfriend back in 1983 and marry her.
