VWs In My Life

          I do not buy my children cars, not new ones anyway. If they want a car of their own, they have to buy it themselves, or agree to my plan, which is, I will buy them a car for no more than $1,500, it stays in my name for insurance purposes, and when they turn 18, and graduate from high school, it will be theirs. You don't get much car for $1,500. They are projects, and that is part of the deal.

            We, the child and me, work on it together with me providing the expertise and money, while they provide the labor. The minimum they have to do with the vehicle is make it run well, and be safe. Cosmetics are optional, but it has to be functional. The plan has turned out to be very beneficial for both parties.

            Not all eight of my children have taken me up on the offer. Two of the three boys entered into the contract and did no more than the minimum. They did not care if the floorboard was rotting out, or the fenders rusted through. As long as there was enough duct tape to hold it together, they were happy. One of the girls took the agreement as far as it would go. Over two years, she produced a beautifully restored 1974 Mercedes 280 SEL, which she drove away to college.

            For those who take me up on the offer, the benefits are many. They learn how an automobile works, how much it costs, and how hard it is to fix when it breaks. They take care of them, and never let anyone outside the family drive their cars, which is a safety issue in itself. It is a wonderful bonding time between the child and me. Now, it is the Princesses' turn.

            The older, driving one has chosen a VW Bug. After a year of looking, we found the right one, a 1972 Super Beetle. It is painted flat black and has been in the hands of idiots, so needs a lot of work. She wants the job done right and is patient, which is good, because this is going to take awhile. Research of the VIN has revealed its original color to be Texas Yellow; hence, the car is named Rose, as in The Yellow Rose of Texas. The Princess and Rose are girls after my own heart. I did not think it would affect me so, but when I opened the door to the car, the VW distinctive smell hit my heart like a freight train as memories flooded me.

            A Volkswagen was not my first car. I had a '52 Plymouth, a '57 Oldsmobile, and a Chevy Nova before I became part owner of a '62 VW Bus along with three other guys in my high school graduating class. Our plan was to drive it from Fort Worth to Cape Horn at the tip of South America. Because I was always tinkering with hotrods, I became the default mechanic. I embarked with a toolbox containing ten wrenches, a like number of sockets, a couple of screwdrivers, a hammer, pliers, and an adjustable wrench, most of which I still have. We made it almost to South America before we ran our money down to just enough to buy gas to get home, but my life's path with VWs was set.

            I wish I had time and space to list all the Volkswagens I have owned, and all the adventures I have had in them. That will be a good book project. It will be interesting to add up all the miles I have logged, the beaches, mountains, deserts, plains, and interstates I have traversed. The one great memory and tradition I will always treasure will be that all six children of the first litter came home from the hospital in VWs. For the last child, when our business was booming, and we had many luxury cars at our disposal, we chose a Sirocco, a sporty VW Rabbit that I was tricking out in the shop, to bring him home. Neither the Admiral nor I remember what car we brought the Princesses home in, but tradition dictates that it must have been a Volkswagen.

            Because of the simplicity of The People's Car, the ease of obtaining parts and their low cost, I worked on a lot of them through college. When I had all the education I wanted, and was making a career choice, I was making more money working on VWs than I ever would with a degree in biology. I went to a dealership, convinced them that I knew what I was doing, was hired as a mechanic, and the rest is history, but history always has another chapter, and we will write it. The Princess and I have a Beetle.

            I am excited to be working on a VW again, but I fear this path is coming to a serious fork. When the car is finished, will I be willing to relinquish it to the Princess? It will be a hard thing, but I am certain I will, but what about me? I see another Bug on the horizon, and another, and a Bus, and the beat goes on. They are part of who I am, how I got here, and now, where I am going. I think that when I pass, I will have the family get into a VW Bus and drive the highways scattering my ashes as they go. That just seems to fit me.