Chapter 13 American Autos

When I was a kid I could remember every make and model that was built. After all there were only a few.

It seems not only the auto but everything was simpler then. Men could work on their own cars. Good thing because they were breaking down all the time and break down were the expected norms; after all it was mechanical and mechanical things break down...typical American motor company excuse. Little did the consumer realize that the American auto maker consciously built in break downs by using cheap faulty parts so the driver had to spend more money on parts and labor. Repairs were built into the profit equation.

As still today American cars sell to a particular male audience pushing muscle and rumbling exhaust pipes that now seem silly and too blue collar for today's young professionals. Today blue collar relates to lower middle class.

I can't figure out why the American auto makers have never decided to move ahead but still mimic their 80 year old daddy's ideas in car design much to their in the red margins and very possible total demise.

I remember the rock and roll of our 1955 Dodge. It was very unstable around corners and when you hit the break the car kept rocking back and force. I think this was all for giving the passengers a smoother ride. There was always something wrong with it.

I hated stepping out into the soft mud with little rock when I was kid. I wished I lived in town where there was at lease pavement. I longed for concrete curbs and sidewalk. Maybe in a recent past life I lived in the big city and therefore hated muddy dress shoes.

I hated dressing like a girl, but that's another chapter. Our car didn't take us very far. We lived less than five miles out of town. I could run that easily now. When I was a kid it seems so far away because I was alone without friends. And there were only boys in the neighborhood. I daydreamed a lot about shinny new convertibles. Blue was my favorite color.

When I was a kid the best ticket price at the homecoming, beside the crowning of the queen, was the sky blue Chevy convertible. Oh, how I wished we could win it. I was too young to drive and envied the young people who were old enough too. I envied the boys too because they could ask girls out. The pure fact that never would be able to made my heart sink.

I always had that ache in my heart. But, the one time my brother got a warm feeling and let me drive his convertible into town was so cool. Of course, none of my town friends were home for me to give a ride. And it seems the ones that were just weren't that interested. They weren't as thrilled about riding in a convertible as I was..must have been a "hair" thing. So, a super thriller evening turned out now to be all that great.

I learned a lesson that evening and that was not to depend on others for a good time. I learned to create and enjoy my own good times by myself and not to let others stop me from doing what I love to do. I bicycled alone as a kid and still as an adult because my closest friends and eventual partner never liked too. They were not interested. So I entertain myself.

Same with running. If I would have waited for others to want to run it never would have happened. I guess I learned an important lesson and that is to follow your heart.

But back then it was unladylike to do anything physical. Girls were taught to sit and watch boys perform and cheer them on. Girls were weak and it wasn't lady like to join in sports. When we did play basketball in PE it was half court basketball and girls didn't have to play if they were having their period. It was disgraceful for me. Another thing that depressed me was weak sissy women. Little then they know that the male culture was conditioning women to keep them in their place at home with the children and out of the sports arena a work place. Men were the important, intelligent members of society. Women were weak and had to be taken care of. I hated my youth and the time period I had to grow up in. I saw the media social conditioning going on and women fell for it; of course, they had no choice in the matter. Women were financially depended on men, just the way men preferred it. Trapped!