My dad called me on the phone the other day.  Do I want to go deer hunting this year?  Sure…but I thought I missed the application deadline.  After all, there’s no snow on the ground anymore – I was sure the last day to file was long past.  I never even think of putting in for a tag until at least 2 or 3 weeks after the last day.  No, says my dad, we’ve still got a week.  Sounds great, said I…Maybe I should go get a basic hunting license?!

I enjoy hunting, probably because it’s something I do with my Dad.  More than that, I enjoy the outdoor activity.  Still, it’s something I plan for about as much as an appendectomy.  Also, unlike pheasant season, deer hunting is not something you can write in ink on your calendar since your application may not be drawn.  Then you’ve got a weekend set aside for nothing and you’ll probably wind up doing chores or going shopping.  Of course, you could just not mention the fact that you didn’t draw a tag and take the weekend to go out and play cards with the guys.  But then, now that I’ve mentioned it and your wife may have seen it, I would advise against that plan.  Sorry.

I usually give the meat to other family members since I don’t have much use for the venison.  Neither my wife nor children care for it, commenting it tastes similar to “Goodyear” steak no matter how I prepare it.  I don’t think this is true, but then I have never sampled or prepared “Goodyear” steak before.  Maybe it’s something my wife makes when I’m gone hunting.

Since I don’t use the deer myself it would be useful to employ a recently popular fishing method, but I don’t think it would transfer well to hunting.  After all, there are some vital differences between “catch and release” and “shoot and release”.  Perhaps tranquilizer guns could be used.  The hunter could have his picture taken with the incapacitated deer as proof of a successful hunt after which the unharmed deer could stagger off with a glassy look in its eyes.  Of course, this wouldn’t do anything for the control of deer populations and it could cause a previously unheard of wildlife drug problem with deer standing around waiting to be shot.  Maybe somebody could work on that.

Anyway, I generally have pretty good luck in drawing a deer license.  I’m sure the fact that I don’t apply in the years that I wouldn’t get one is a factor.  In addition, my application is always for the most remote areas on the map.  These areas are sometimes so remote that you can’t even find them except on the map.  Should this strategy continue to be successful, we will receive our tags and preparations can begin.

The first thing is to do the fall check on the rifle, which can be found in the gun cabinet where I placed it after the last time I went hunting – three years ago.  The firearm is not loaded.  I always unload it at least three times before I bring it in the house, as much to keep a loaded weapon from an irate spouse as to have guns and ammo locked away from the kids.  I find this practice can settle the mind a great deal when your wife finds out you bought a different boat trailer instead of a new dishwasher.

At any rate, the clip is removed and the chamber is empty – except for the dirt, grit and residue left there from the last outing.  Now is the time when it occurs to me that I haven’t cleaned the rifle since before the last time I sighted it in for deer hunting.  Now is when I remember that I told myself last time I would clean the rifle when I got home from hunting.  Now is also when I tell myself that I’m going to clean the rifle as soon as I get home from…you see where this is going, don’t you?

Once the firearm is cleaned and prepared for sighting-in, it’s necessary to decide which ammunition to use.  You may find some half-shot boxes left over from past hunting excursions – some of which may actually fit modern firearms.  It’s a good idea to use this ammo for something other than big game hunting.  While it’s nice to have old ammunition as an excuse, er, reason for not being totally successful in your hunt, it’s not worth the stress of a misfire while standing 50 yards away from that buck no one has ever shot ‘cause it was so big they thought it was an elk.

After you have chosen your ammunition, you’re ready to sight in your rifle.  Most hunters use 100 yards as a target distance when sighting for deer.  By use of some little known neo-algebraic formula, this same 100 yards is often recalculated to equal anywhere from 250 to 600 yards after the rifle is fired at an actual deer.  I believe this is the same formula used by politicians at election time when they tell us how much they’ve done for us and how much money they’ve saved us.

When sighting in your rifle you should use a seated bench rest position, if possible.  Obviously you won’t be able to fire from these ideal conditions in the field, but this will allow you to adjust your firearm to its greatest accuracy.  Also, you will be certain that it’s not your rifles’ fault when you can’t hit a 300-year-old oak tree at 50 yards.

Since wild game is not aware that it is supposed to appear at precisely 100 yards from a given hunter, it is a good ides to understand the principals of windage and projectile drop for your particular rifle and cartridge.  Even if you memorize the statistics tables it’s still necessary, in the field, to determine your distance from the target.  Some people have great difficulty with this task.  If you think the average automobile is 50 feet long or the distance between Tucson and Tuscaloosa is a spelling error, perhaps you should consider acquiring a focal range finder.  This item, which works on the same principle as binoculars, will tell you the distance to the point of focus.  Of course, by the time you dig out your range finder, set your focus, check your distance and raise your rifle, the deer will be gone and the other wilderness creatures will be standing in a rough semi-circle, staring, wondering what the heck it is you’re trying to do, anyhow?!  Let’s face it; this would look rather foolish if any other hunters saw you.

There are other technological advances, which are designed to assist the hunter.  The laser sight is one such invention, but laser light tends to drop less in 400 yards than the average metal projectile so distance is still a factor.  Your long range shooting may not improve with such a system, but your outfit will really look impressive to other hunters – some of whom can hit a prairie dog at 400 yards in a stiff wind without ap scope.

For those of us who still have trouble, perhaps further advances are warranted.  Maybe something in the line of a radar-based, deer-identifying mine system.  Or tactical nuclear hunting rounds for your 30-06.  Just think…not only would you get your game without a direct hit but the venison would already be cooked and you’d have cleaned out the shelterbelt at the same time.

I sat near a guy at the bar the other day…  And yes, considering my orientation that’s not optimum positioning, but all I was after was a beer, so there’s that.  Anyway, it was a common, national brand BWWing place and the guy ordered wings with the feature sauce which, I can only imagine, surprised him by its, um… veracity.

Now, he consumed them in a manly manner.  And by this I mean he was sweating profusely and refused to accept any soothing fluids or suggestions, choosing rather to suffer in macho muteness rather than allow others (this primarily means “pretty young women”) to see him exhibit any weakness.  This is almost always a poor approach; mostly because it doesn’t work.  Instead of showing an attractive machismo it simply spotlights a pathetic idiocy…  But then, those terms are basically synonymic; you know…the same.

As interesting as this episode was, in a hilarious sort of way, it set me to thinking… yeah, don’t make fun of that.  If it weren’t for my thinking and putting this crap through a keyboard, you would revert to making fun of handicapped people and geeks, which now days is, for the first, politically incorrect and for the second, not a good idea since it will result in you never again owning a working computer.  Anyway, it got me to thinking about why.   As in, why would anyone add battery acid to their tortilla chips and decide, “Hey, that’s pretty good!”  So, since you didn’t research this stuff and send me an email to fill me in, I determined to ferret out this information.

The origins of the use of excessive spice application are kind of muddled, at least in the easily accessible information found on the internet.  Granted, there could be some highly classified material in a highly secure database that would be in simple 12 keystroke reach of a fourteen year old digital wizard, but I can’t think of any good reason to keep this information from the public at large.  We’re already stupid enough as it is and I can’t imagine any weaponizable reason not to tell the public why some ancient civilization chose to give themselves mouth blisters.  What I DO believe is that academia simply hasn’t found the answer because, unlike the discovery of the Ark of the Covenant, it wouldn’t make a good movie (hash tag, Indiana Jones).

What I DID find, however, was a combination of solid scientific discovery and educated guesswork.  Basically, the scientific community is kind of sold on the idea that the use of spices was due to the need to preserve food, since very few prehistoric cultures had iceboxes, refrigerators or freeze-drying technology.  The thought is that early civilizations found that food which was treated with certain herbs would inhibit bacterial growth and remain palatable for longer periods.

Okay, while they didn’t really know anything about bacterial growth, they did know that, as the food aged, some of it got to tasting really sketchy.  If you treated the foodstuffs with peppers, salts maybe some herbs you hadn’t smoked last night, it got rid of the questionable taste and even made the meal more interesting – kind of.  Eventually, someone noticed that fewer people were dropping dead from gastrointestinal issues… or whatever they called it at the time.  But then again, maybe they just didn’t have many choices in what to eat:

”We’ve got these shell-things we dug out of the sand by the water.  Just pry it apart with a sharp rock and swallow this snot-stuff inside.  Try it!”

“Uh, no, that’s okay.  I’ll just eat these green things that burn off the inside skin in my mouth and make my teeth soft.  I’m good…”

Modern scientific research finds that there actually is some anti-bacterial benefit to using many of the culinary additions cultures have derived over the years.  Physically, there are proven anti-obesity, anti-inflammatory, anti-oxidant and anti-carcinogenic benefits resulting from the use of many spices, particularly some of the hot ones.  There is also a verified correlation as an aid against pregnancy.  I think, however, that has more to do with an increase in eye-watering halitosis than an actual method of contraception.  Just a guess on my part.

While science hasn’t unearthed the exact reason humans began incorporating these flavors into their diet, they have amassed a great deal of quantifiable data regarding the sales figures of these foods and current contemporary use of these flavors.  Also just general information, but, ya’ know, if there’s no money in it…  For instance, the chemical that causes the heat you feel when eating that habenero is capsaicin.  This is a chemical that the plant developed over time as a protective method to keep you FROM EATING IT!!!  This shows, along with social media, politics and the popularity of the Kardasians, that evolution doesn’t always work.

As would be expected, once there was notice that one pepper seemed hotter than another, someone had to construct a numerical scale to use as a comparison base in order to have a scientific way to win bar bets.  That task was accomplished in 1912 by Wilbur Scoville, a pharmacist in the employ of Parke-Davis Pharmaceuticals.  Wilbur’s scale measures the chemical results in a subjective way using Scoville Heat Units or SHU’s.  This scale runs from 0 (basically, water) to “AAARRHHHH!!!!!” (Infinity).  Presently, the highest rated source on this scale is the Dragon’s Breath pepper at 2,480,000 SHU’s.  This statistic could, however, change before I reach the end of this sentence.  To put this in perspective, a jalapeno, at its hottest, is about 20,000 SHU’s and a habanero chili tops at about 350,000.  2.48 million is basically airplane paint remover…except more noxious.

This glimpse into the science behind the heat leads us naturally back to the question alluded to at the beginning – why would anyone want to eat this stuff if they didn’t absolutely have to?  Well, cultural upbringing is one reason.  Those cultures in which the foods in question are traditional are more likely to be desensitized to their effects.

“Eat your jalapeno casserole or I’ll let your brother have your Cayenne cake!”

This is popularly known as the “Pink Floyd Effect”, and if you don’t know what that is, it may take you some research.  Here’s a hint:  play, “The Wall.”

Culinary psychologists (no, I am absolutely NOT kidding.  There are people who have managed to sell themselves as “Culinary Psychologists.  And you thought being a “celebrity chef” was a useless, made-up job!) have found a correlation between spicy foods and a risk-taking personality.  So I can conclude that my bar-mate with the over spicy wings was actually a risk-taker.  A man with a need for excitement.  A “James Bond” type personality without the exacting job.

He shouldn’t have listened to his “culinary psychologist.”   His risk-taking personality would have been better served if he had jumped out of a perfectly good airplane instead.

          I wrote a check the other day.

          “That’s old school!” you’re thinking to yourself.

          Well, okay.  I’ll give you that.  But, like you and millions of others I still write checks once in a while, sometimes quite a few.  I’m also pretty good at most of them, managing to fill in all of the little lines with the appropriate information, such as the date, the amount, the person for whom the funds are intended and my name in longhand which no one at the bank ever checks against a signature card anyway or they would know that “L…” is not my complete name OR official signature.  I’ve even gotten to the point where I fill in that short “note” line in the lower left-hand corner with some cryptic phrase that I won’t be able to read or remember when I get the check back.  Using this line makes you look organized, however, and the appearance of organization gets you, maybe 6.3% of the way there…wherever “there” is.

          The particular check in question was different in that it was a bit larger than my usual check – and, even though I was sure I had done so, I actually forgot to enter it into my check register.  It is possible that the entry into the register experienced “spontaneous erasure”.  This is a para-scientific phenomenon which takes place when random molecules on the surface of the paper begin to dissipate for no reason at all, taking with them the ink which was written on top of them.  This can cause a chain reaction which may take out one or even more lines in your check register.  It seems to strike harder at youthful subjects where it often wipes out whole homework assignments.

          Anyway, for those of us who carry an average daily balance in our checking accounts of $462,186.43, this is not likely to be a problem.  Those of us, however, who normally keep an account which ranges in the neighborhood of “excuse me, but I have to get this deposit to the bank before 3 o’clock”, generally know what it means to “balance” our checking account.

          Timing was actually the biggest problem – aside from the fact that I am, personally, too cheap to spend the extra money on duplicate, carbonless checks.  As is common in life, at least for a few of us…like all of us who breath oxygen…this small mistake, compounded by chance occurrences, caused another chain reaction much like the fission which takes place at the core of a nuclear device.  The result, I think, even caused a small mushroom cloud at the bank.

          What happened, as near as I can reconstruct the incident, is that this semi-large check (meaning a check as big as a tractor-trailer rig) made it to the financial institution days after it was written, giving me ample time to forget about it.  The bank, staffed by nice individuals who must have, at one time or another, done something equally as stupid, waited until after the days deposit deadline to see if the owner of the account would inject some life into a faltering monetary existence.  He, or rather, I, did not, however, being blissfully unaware of the situation.

          Here is where the chain reaction begins.  This day, naturally, was Friday, meaning when the nice people at the bank printed and mailed a notice that said “Hey, Moron!  You can’t write checks for more than the amount of money you presently have in your account,” or something to that effect, it fell into a black hole at the U.S. Postal Service and came out in a locale so far distant there were only three digits in the zip code.  Whatever happened to it, it never reached my mail box until the following Tuesday.  In the meantime, having a surplus of funds according to the register balance, I led the family on a weekend excursion following children’s activities all over the region strewing checks like flower petals over hundreds of miles.  (I should point out that I, personally, have never before “strewn” flower petals, but I would imagine it would be something like this.)

          Now, had I been aware of my error within a day or two I could easily have circumvented the trail of latex-based monetary instruments I had left behind me.  This would have been possible because the same nice people at the bank have a policy of covering the overdrafts they receive UP to the amount of the last deposit to the account in question.  Of course, they have a service charge for this sort of thing.  This service charge goes up as your mistakes pour into the office.  I believe the rate of increase is exponential, which is a mathematical statement meaning “at the speed of light.”  Coupling this with the fact that my last deposit was in the area of $43.00 pretty much wiped out my safety cushion.  By the time the first notice reached me on Tuesday, the destruction was nearly complete.  Adjustments and transfers were made to the account immediately but weren’t credited until Wednesday.  Overdraft notices came dropping in like return artillery fire for three days, each one, in chain reaction form, more devastating than the last.  I was extremely embarrassed but still compelled to approach the recipients of my dishonored checks with my hat in my hand, so to speak.  The trouble was, I don’t wear a hat and it was impossible to buy one since I couldn’t write a check anywhere.  The closest I could come was an old stocking cap, so I begged forgiveness and made good on the checks without the headgear.

          Some of the establishments which received the bad paper turned them over to a check collection agency.  This is an institution whose sole purpose is the collection of bad checks.  This is also where the people who aren’t nice enough to work at the bank get jobs.  The collection agency will attempt to collect the amount of the check plus a small additional charge for the business which accepted your lecherous attempt to get a meal without paying for it.  They will also levy a minimal service charge to help cover their own costs.  For each check this will generally run in the area of $862.93.  As you can guess, this can cause a fiscal chain reaction and lead you to spend time in jail because you can’t cover the cost of the four deficient checks you wrote which averaged $9.32 each…plus the service charge at the bank which totaled $235.00 plus the charge at the collection agency which came to a 15 year mortgage at 12% interest.

          All in all these folks were pretty good about the whole thing, but then, they came out ahead on the deal.  The whole process has taught me a great deal.  For one thing, I’m seriously considering duplicate checks.

          And I’m shopping for a new financial institution.  Not that the people at the old one weren’t nice enough – I’m just trying to find one with an accidental chain reaction clause in the checking account contract.

          …And I started wearing hats.

         As is normal this time of year, I have been out shooting a lot.  I have to add that I have been hitting things, too, for those of you who were aiming a snide remark at the page.  What I’ve been hitting is mostly various air particles along with a good supply of dirt, a number of trees, a few fence posts and the windshield of a 2013 Suburban, the latter of which runs about $267.63 a pound, dressed out.  That price can change depending on where you have it “processed.”

          While you are probably having better luck than I am, most hunters tend to expend a great amount of ammunition at this time of year.  Depending on the frequency of your shooting, for whatever reason, this can run into quite an expense if you’re not frugal with your shots – or if you can’t shoot.  In an effort to reduce the cost of my getting out of the house on weekends, I have done some research into loading my own shells, or “reloading” as it is commonly known.

          My brother actually helped me get started in reloading.  I think it was so I could afford to practice more so I could become more proficient and he would not have to worry about his family and friends while I was out and about with a high powered firearm.  He is not the first member of my family to whom I am a disappointment.  Anyway, let me pass on to you some of the information I have gained from him and other sources.

          Let’s get started with the basics.  First we’ll need something in which to put our bullet.  Sure, a firearm is necessary eventually and a cardboard box will work, too, but what I’m talking about here is the casing of the shell which is traditionally made out of animal intestines and can be purchased at any butcher shop.  These can be stuffed with… Wait… that’s for the sausage making article.  What we need is a case, typically a brass constructed cylinder capped on one end.  Each case is specifically designed for a particular firearm so it fits within strict tolerances.  This tight fit keeps the pressure from the expanding gases from forcing its way backward into the breach thereby removing thrust from the projectile and hair from your eyebrows – or worse.  If the fit is too tight, it can cause the shell to become stuck in the loading mechanism; a situation termed firearm “jam.”  I, personally, have never actually seen this happen, but I believe many rifles are equipped with this option to help hunters save face when they come home empty handed.

       “Yeah, I tracked the thing all day – knew it was a big one by the size of the        tracks.  Finally, just about sundown, I was standin’ by this juniper tryin’ to smell like a rock and the darn thing came through the trees.  I tell ya’, Bill, it was huge!  He had a rack on ‘im looked like two dead birch trees – had telephone lines hangin’ from the tops of  ‘em!  I brought up my rifle and wouldn’t ya’ know, the thing jammed on me!  I coulda’ touched the thing, I tell ya’.”

          The next critical component we need is the round or bullet.  These are, of course, the projectiles which are forced from the barrel of the firearm.  Historically, bullets were made from lead because lead melts at a low temperature making it easy to form to the required shape.  Also, it has enough mass so that it carries the energy of the shot and is difficult to deflect from its course, more so than, say, spit wads.  Today lead, in an alloy form, is still the basic material used for bullets because, well, I don’t know why, really.  I didn’t want to do that much research.  The same reasons, I would guess and it’s cheap.  Good enough for me.  Nowadays they often use a copper or alloy coating around the lead.  This is called a jacketed bullet and helps keep the soft lead core from distorting its shape due to the explosive pressures of the firing chamber.  I think the jacket also keeps the core of the bullet warm, which is where the term “hot lead” came from…maybe.

          Now that we have these parts we could make a cartridge that looks complete.  We’re missing a few components, however, and this ammunition would not fire – which to a lot of hunters would make no difference whatsoever, netting them the same amount of game they usually bring home.  However, since they would probably miss the loud noise that usually accompanies the pull of the trigger, we will continue what we started by adding the gun powder.  This, of course, is a chemical propellant which, when ignited turns to a gas and expands explosively – much the same as that greasy pepperoni and green pepper pizza when you mix it with beer.  At any rate, this sudden increase in pressure is what forces the projectile from the front of the firearm.

          All we really need now is a reliable way to get the powder to ignite – we need a powerful flare to set it off.  That’s where our last component, the primer, comes in.  Aside from keeping the powder from running out that little hole in the case once it’s friction fit into the bottom, the primer contains a small amount of a highly volatile mixture of chemicals.  Extreme care must be taken with this portion of the cartridge – these things will go off faster than a spouse after a forgotten birthday.  Actually, during a time when firearms were still using an antiquated system of flints and black powders, these primers were invented by a dentist as a quick means of removing teeth…maybe.  The unknowing patient would be instructed to bite down on a little cup with the bad tooth and the extraction would be over.  Of course, problems were experienced with additional teeth being removed from the explosive reaction, so use for this purpose was discontinued.  Kinda’ gives a new meaning to the term “blasting caps”, though, doesn’t it.

          These are the basic components we need to build our cartridges.  We can’t just put them together in the field, however.  Some of these parts are really small and precise measurements are necessary so they’re kind of hard to put together in a stiff wind on a cold day with coveralls and gloves on.  We’re going to need some tools in order to assemble these parts so let’s look at them as we need them.

          For this step, we’ll have to start with a priming tool.  This is often a small handheld press which slowly and evenly pushes the priming cap into the shell case.  It may be possible to use a wide, flat punch to force the primer into the case.  As a matter of fact, if you were very, very careful you could probably do this successfully on 3 out of 4 attempts.  Of course, the other one would be kind of hard on your bench, tools and fingers.  Also, if you decide to use this method, remember to place your powder and your other primers a good distance away from the bench at which you’re working.  Personally, I would strongly advise against this approach and urge you to spend the few bucks on a priming tool.

          Once we have the primer in the case we need a means to precisely measure the amount of powder we put in each cartridge.  You should note it’s not a good idea to just fill it to the top each time since this could cause minor difficulties in your shooting.  Things like various pieces of your weapon escaping in a number of different directions upon firing.  This is generally not a desirable outcome and if it happens to you and you are still upright and able, don’t bother looking for your missing pieces… they’re not going to be any good, anyway.

          In filling, or charging, the cases, the beginner can use a set of powder measures as a starter.  These are like a set of measuring cups you have in your kitchen except they’re larger…  The ones in the kitchen, I mean.  They work the same way, too.  All you have to do is follow the recipe’ for the bullet you want to load with the powder you are using.  This is important because each powder has a different expansion rate, volume and percentage of calories from fat.

          Finally, we need to insert the bullet into the charged case… or you can pay cash, that’s up to you.  For this purpose we need a press and a die set.  The use for the press is obvious.  We’re “pressing” the bullet into the case.  The die set is a press accessory which is made within strict tolerances to the exact measurements of your bullet size.  When the proper depth and neck pressure is set, the bullet can be set atop the shell and pressed together to form the completed product.

          If you have followed these instructions, as I have written them, you are plainly quite gullible.  You should, however, have a completed cartridge which you can turn upside down without having any of the components fall out.  There is a possibility, however slight, that it may even fire.  This essay serves the simple purpose of giving you the basic idea of how this process works and is in no way intended as a comprehensive guide to reloading.  For that objective I would direct you to purchase any one of a large number of books published strictly for the purpose of promoting the wealth of the person who wrote the volume.  These publications will have many diagrams, charts and technical terms which you will find difficult to understand, thereby making them well worth the money.

          In addition to the components and tools I have mentioned here, there are optional items which are very handy; things like shell gauging tools, a powder scale and supplemental homeowners insurance.  And if you get through this with any money left over, you should be able to save enough to take some shooting lessons.

My wife is gone.  For the next two weeks, my wife is traveling for work.  You know what that means…

Road Trip!  To where my wife is…

What’s the matter with that!?!  She’s in Colorado!  Okay, maybe you haven’t been married as long as I have.  Or maybe you’ve been married longer.  Or maybe you just don’t like your wife…  (I’d keep that to myself if I were you).  Or maybe you just haven’t been to Colorado.

Either way, it’s still a road trip.  Naturally, that means different things to different people.  If you’re 12, it may mean putting up with your little brother irritating you for hours while your dad blames everything on you and threatens to turn the car around.  If you’re 8, it may mean baiting your older sister into violence so she will lose the game on points with your dad.  Hey! It’s just as easy to win the game on points if you take some of them from the other side than if you exert the effort to put them up yourself.  Or, to paraphrase:  Subversiveness is the best offense.  Besides, you may have a promising career in politics ahead of you.

Where was I?  Oh, yeah.  If you’re older, you probably just see it as an opportunity to get away.  This is a viable option if you want to get away TO someplace or if, like me, you just want to BE away.  Please don’t confuse this topic with people telling you to GO away.  I have some experience (a lot) with this subject, as well, but we’ll go into that another time.

Now, if you want to get TO someplace and you’re not concerned with the process of getting there, you may want to find the cheapest flight available (don’t forget to take into consideration your checked baggage charge, carry-on charge, choose-your-seat charge, breathable air charge and bag-of-6-pretzels-that-you-used-to-get-for-free charge.  There is no option for the get-away-from-the-person-next-to-you-who-texts-through-the-whole-flight-because-the-rules-don’t-apply-to-him charge, so you can’t pay extra for one of the things worth paying for).  If, however, you find that the journey itself IS the destination, you may want to travel in a slower, more old-fashioned manner.

Actually, I was referring to driving, but drawn carriage, horseback or even hiking will work.  For our purposes we’ll consider the driving road trip and if you’re interested in one of the other methods of travel you can just read the rest of the article more sloooowlyyyy.

Now, for this type of excursion I would recommend circumven…, circumnaviga…, um, not driving on the Interstate highways.  Granted, in some areas you may want to use it just because, eventually, you’ll have to go back to work.    Most western states come to mind and some are worse (or better, depending on your perspective) than others.  In these areas you are often forced to use the Interstate due simply to a lack of options.  You’ll find there are a lot of things you can see while driving on the Interstate Highway System.  This is just an accident.  Interstate highways were never purposefully placed next to anything interesting but, hey, they have to be next to something, right?  In most cases the things worth seeing were placed there after the highway was built or they were just too costly and impractical to work around.    And yes, that is the kind of thing I would toss in just because I thought it chuckle-worthy, but in this case, it’s true.

Of course, had the designers of the highway system known that, in the future, the human-carved mountain sculpture of a nations great, historical leaders and statesmen would go unnoticed by people checking their “likes” (from people they don’t really know) on a small device they’re staring at while not paying attention to their driving, they would have diverted the Interstate past a perpetual train wreck.  It would have made no difference.

Anyway, if you’re cruising the countryside I recommend choosing a good state or federal highway, preferably one with only two lanes.  This is the difference between “cruising” and “traversing” the countryside.  I would also recommend cutting 5 mph off the speed limit, just to help force you to look around.  If it’s a nice day, open your window…   yeah, I know it’s hard to hear the radio!  You used to be a kid; turn it UP!  Better yet, turn it off.  This is the best way to experience the excursionary pioneer spirit in a few days time.  Would you rather load all your belongings in a covered wagon and slog across the prairie?  I didn’t think so.  Trust me, this is better.

With the wind brushing your brow let your daily problems blow away with it.  Absorb the broad emptiness.  Imagine your solitude if you were an explorer.  Think about where you would be if your car quit.  No, your car didn’t make a funny noise; that was just to make you concentrate on the loneliness, the solitude, the individual strength needed and the fortitude of the earliest people in this unforgiving wilderness.  And the freedom.   You are free!  No constraint…  No restrictions…  No expectations…  NO!  Your car did NOT make a noise!  Maybe you should take the bus.

The point is, use this time to embrace your lack of ultra-modern civilization.  You still have your cell phone, you’re just not tethered to it.  You have your air-conditioning and fuel injection and paved highways and you can have cable tv if you stop at a motel for the night.  Enjoy the disconnect!  Stop to read one of those roadside markers.  Pull off to a historic landmark at the side of the road.  Some of them are very interesting (DISCLAIMER:  Not the one you stop at.  That one will be one of the dull ones.  Still, don’t give up – most of them are interesting and educational).

In other words; relax.

And for those of you not wanting to take a road trip to where your spouse is, you may want to try to think of somewhere you can take a road trip, get away from everything and everyONE for a few days…  and at the same time receive those elusive marital points for your enjoyment.

Wave to me in the aquamarine ’66 Thunderbird if you finally understand.  Have a good trip.

          I really don’t know why I chose camping and backpacking as a hobby.  Like most hobbies people really enjoy, I believe it kind of chose me through a series of chance occurrences.  This type of fateful manipulation reduces my need to make a decision on the subject, thereby effectively leaving me out of the loop.  In this kind of situation I am free to stand by with a confused look on my face…this is the kind of situation with which I am comfortable.

          One of the original facets that drew me to camping was the fact that it was distinguished by its lack of formal equipment as a prerequisite.  This is where the outdated term “roughing it” came from.  I recall gathering a bedroll, which I utilized until my grandmother gave me an old, used sleeping bag she had repaired.  The sleeping bag was quite a welcome piece of equipment, which saved me from a great deal of anguish associated with camping.  Not that my bedroll wasn’t warm enough – the blankets and quilts I used were usually more insulation than needed for the mild weather camping I did in my youth.  The primary problem with the bedroll was the unerring selection of my mothers’ best blankets and quilts for camping use.  I never could quite pick up on this lesson, generally commandeering materials which garnered me “wait ‘til your father gets home!” status.  I would then be alienated from my siblings and any other neighborhood kids who heard my sentence, since they didn’t want to be seen associating with a convicted person.

          Aside from beginning without a sleeping bag, I also initially did without a backpack.  It’s not that I deemed it unnecessary, it’s just that, well, when you rolled everything up in the bedroll you really didn’t need anything else …although a tandem axle trailer might have been helpful.  Naturally this didn’t carry very well but I was much too young and naïve to realize it.  Heck, the only reason I didn’t take the family barbecue and charcoal with me was the poor packing and carrying dimensions of the kettle grill.

          Anyway, camping this way was fun mostly because I was much too stupid to know how back-breaking, barge-toting , bale-hauling hard I was working.  I may have caught on to my intellectual discrepancy earlier if all my friends hadn’t been equally ignorant.  Add to this the fact that, as a kid, a hundred yards was a substantial distance (once you could no longer see your house), we never did the marathon twenty mile days some hikers do as adults.

          As I grew older I acquired more sophisticated equipment such as cold weather sleeping bags which displaced the same volume as a twin mattress and frame, a portable stove about the size of an apartment-size range top and a canvas tent with roughly the same weight as the equivalent coverage in sheetrock less the 2×4 frame support.  Of course, by the time I collected all of this, I had to buy a ’67 Chevy pick-up with sagging springs and sloppy steering in order to carry all of my junk.  Well, actually, I didn’t have to buy a vehicle with bad springs and steering.  That’s just all I could afford.

          Today, however, it is much easier to pack a great deal of equipment and necessities due to synthetics, dehydration and redesign.  For example, a warm, ultra-light, hi-tech synthetic filled mummy bag will weigh you down only about 5 pounds and further reduce your load by relieving you of anywhere from 150 to 500 dollars.  In addition, you will have time to appreciate the warmth of this technological sleeping system since you’ll probably be awake all night wondering how to sleep with your legs bound together after the fashion of a Harry Houdini escape illusion.  As a matter of fact, though many people don’t know it, I believe Houdini died while attempting the mummy bag escape trick while hanging upside down from the gear loft of an ultra-light geodesic dome tent.

          Cuisine and the preparation of food in the backcountry have also advanced on the trail of progress, so to speak.  A given amount of fuel today will release much more heat energy for cooking than an equal amount in days past.  Today’s fuels with modern camp cooking equipment heat foods quickly and efficiently without the soot and smoky-burnt taste of wood charred, er, cooked, fare.  Since many people used to cook with dry wood they picked up from the forest floor, the use of other fuels also reduces the depletion of fallen deadwood, which provides valuable habitat for wildlife.  Of course, nowadays I pack in a stove and fuel instead of burning wood so I actually have a net weight gain of several pounds.  However, this extra burden is suffered for the purposes of taste, convenience and environmental responsibility.  But then, I personally preferred the sooty palate of smoke to the delicate flavor of white gas.  Come to think of it, it would also be more convenient if I didn’t have to lose my eyebrows to the obligatory “poof” of flame when lighting the modern ultra-light, high efficiency campstove.  Environmental responsibility aside, it leaves me yearning for the days of a two-pine bonfire.

          The food we cook is also less of a burden.  It’s already lighter simply by the removal of excess fat, cholesterol, processed sugars and salt.  In many cases, if backpacking during the proper season, I simply grab a handful of the nearest available plantlife with a pinch of wild-growing herb for flavor.

           Besides the restricted diet, any food from simple fruit to shrimp Cantonese can be carried easily and lightly thanks to dehydration and freeze-drying.  This is a process whereby the food solids remain the same and only the water and flavor are removed.  Food preparation then consists only of adding boiling water.  This very naturally leads us to another recent camping concern…

          Water.  This substance used to come from the closest stream, river or brook.  Dip it out, let it settle a bit and your thirst was gone.  Today, civilization has brought us giardia lamblia, cryptosporidium protozoa, psoriasis, arthritis and a possible connection to nuclear-emotive psychosis – all from untreated water.  That’s not to mention the additional susceptibility to cavities from drinking unfloridated water.

          To combat these dangers you need to:  A) carry your own water, or B) buy a filter system you have a great deal of faith in.  If you choose to, A) carry your own water, you have to leave a little extra room in your pack and probably do without a few luxuries such as clean underwear and your portable electric nail clipper with diamond dust emery board since water weighs in at about 8 pounds per gallon.  If you choose option B), buy a filter system, you should be prepared to leave more liquid assets than just water.  Many of these systems work well in removing unwanted organisms from your water to be filtered.  For instance, it’s often so dry in the badlands that if you manage to find water, you have to blow the dust off the top before you can filter it.

          All in all, a beginning backpacker or camper can get by fairly inexpensively.  However, if it comes to the point you feel it necessary to replace some of your simple, useful, bulky equipment with swoopy, light, technologically advanced camping systems, please keep this in mind…  for this kind of money you can trade off the ’67 Chevy pick-up for a new Suburban and drive to the campsite with your old equipment neatly stowed in the back.

          Now that’s progress.

Do you know where you’re going?

No!  I don’t mean your path in life!   You obviously haven’t read any of my stuff before.  A philosophical subject like that is waaaay too deep for my shovel.

What I’m referring to is, when you leave your home and go to your next location, do you know where you’re going?…or more specifically, how to get there?  In this case, the modern GPS is an amazingly helpful device, whether it’s on your cell phone, a portable unit or one of those tablet sized ones they build into the dash on your vehicle so you can be easily distracted while attempting to not get lost.

The GPS, or Giant Pain…no, that’s GPA!…  The Global Positioning System is a technology that uses a space based satellite network to pinpoint a location “on or near” the Earth’s surface.  For purposes of this article, we will assume “on.”  It was invented by Al Gore after he invented the internet.  Or before.  Or maybe it was someone else.  Doesn’t matter.

Either way, this technology can find your location, find your destination, calculate options as to route and roads, then direct you in the direction of the most traffic.  There is also technology available to help circumvent that traffic, but that comes at additional cost and only works in the movies.

As with any new tech, there is a plethora (that means a lot) of uses and applications for this system.  Also, as with any new science, there are downsides and learning curves with which to deal.  One of the downsides of the GPS is language compatibility.  Some of these units have a voice interface.  What this means is you can talk to the unit instead of punch buttons on the screen to instruct the machine to lead you where you want to go.  This feature helps you keep your eyes on the road or your cell phone keyboard as you text while driving.  Sadly, however, it doesn’t do a thing for your frustration level.

“And why not?” you ask.

Okay, one of you asked, even if it wasn’t you.

That’s because, with all the choices available in the language selection menu, “GPS language” is not one of the choices you are offered.  The unit will likely instruct you in a language that resembles whatever you chose, in this case English, but the words it strings together don’t seem to make any sense!

Let’s take the simplest instruction you receive when you get to the first corner.  Your high-tech electronic device will inform you to “prepare to turn left.”

What does that mean?

How do you “prepare” for something like that?  Do you have to wake up?  I am relatively sure this is one of the prerequisites for driving in the first place.  This requirement comes right after the one that says you can’t drive if you’re blind.  Maybe it’s telling you to move to the correct lane, but then why doesn’t it tell you move to the left-turn lane?  This is one of the statements you have to learn in order to operate your vehicle under GPS instruction.  Fortunately, it doesn’t take too long for most of us to catch on after we see our intersection go by outside the window because we didn’t properly “prepare” to turn left.

Granted, there are many very useful instructions or informational comments.  “Prepare to exit left,” is a particularly helpful piece of information, since most exits are to the right.  Knowing this can keep you from cutting across three lanes of traffic in front of other vehicles – provided they “prepare” you for the exit far enough in advance.  I should warn you, from the opposing perspective, that the unit will NOT advise you to watch for an idiot cutting across three lanes of traffic to make the exit.

“You have reached your destination; your destination is on the right” is a useful statement, but not all units seem to have this courtesy.  If they don’t, you invariably find yourself in the wrong lane and need to circle the block to attain your destination.

“Bear right” is another helpful hint, but different manufacturers seem to have different definitions for this statement.  How many degrees of course change constitute a “bear” as compared to a “turn” or a “follow the road?”  Was the last little bend the “bear right” or is that still ahead?  If you take your eyes off the road to look at the GPS screen, you may find out that the “bear right” referred to the extremely large, hairy guy in the Super Duty pick-up.  You know…the one you just tagged while not looking where you were going.

Translation notwithstanding, some proclamations are just designed to cause confusion.  “Move left and keep left, then keep left.” You know there’s a median over there, right?  I can see it on the screen that you know that.  How far left do you want me to go?  We could assume that one of the two left most lanes would be good for this instruction, until it’s followed by the suggestion, ”Prepare to exit right.”  Now what the hell do you do?!

I should point out here that speaking harshly to the GPS unit will NOT gain you an explanation or clarification of any sort.  It may increase your blood pressure but you’re still not getting any help.  Just sayin’.

The answer to my quandary of dealing with the GPS finally fell into place recently when my long owned unit told me to “prepare to drive straight.”  Prepare to drive straight?!”  REALLY?…

And suddenly, with clarity befitting full HD, it occurred to me – this is my spouse!  “Go this way!  Go that way!  Do this!”  Even if you’re doing it correctly, you need to do it correctly in a different way – perhaps MORE correctly!

And so, with this epiphany, I understand the best way to deal with the GPS language barrier.  Do your level best to understand or decipher the instructions.  If you get it wrong, the unit will “recalculate” and tell you the best way to proceed.

In other words, it will treat you like an idiot, just like it has to deal with you ALL THE TIME!

And you thought machines couldn’t learn anything!

            The other day I was speaking with a friend…she wasn’t my friend, mind you; she seemed to have better taste than that.  Still, she struck me as being a very nice person who has actual friends.  Anyway, she was telling me about a place she visited in Nebraska.  Yes, there are places to visit in Nebraska…  there’s no place NEXT to them, but there are places to visit. 

            This particular place was a historical site at which had been found the fossilized remains of prehistoric camels.

            “Hey!” you’re thinking at this article, “there are no camels in North America… or even Nebraska!”

            You’re right, and that’s exactly my point.  Consider the significance of the fact.  This means there were people on this continent long before anyone thought there were – and they had ZOO’s!  Imagine.  A prehistoric people in America with a thirst for knowledge, a desire for culture and the need for someplace to take their kids on Saturday afternoon.  And since these camels are from Africa or the Middle East or some continent which has already fallen into some ocean or other, it means these people had intercontinental commerce and consequently, intercontinental travel and probably a trade deficit, but that’s not the point of this article.  I mean, think about it.  They had to get the camels over here somehow and they couldn’t just slap a FED-EX sticker on them and send them off.  This was way before the first cargo ships (which were made of gopher wood and measured in cubits…I think).   

            To accomplish this monumental task these early zoologists enlisted the aid of Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom’s Marlin Perkins, who was a young man at that time.  Since they didn’t have a written language at that time, Marlin was known by an odd geometric symbol, which meant “the wildlife biologist who will later be known as Marlin Perkins.”  What Marlin did was travel to the Middle East, which was then the Southwest because you had to approach it from the Northeast.  And even though they crossed what is now the International Date Line, it hadn’t really developed into an actual line then – it was then only a hyphenated open space, so they had no agreed upon point from which to determine direction so they just figured from where they were at the time.  Follow?

            At any rate, to help him secure these dromedaries from the wild, Marlin likely enlisted the aid of Honest Assim’s New and Used Camel Oasis.  (Marlin didn’t actually start capturing wild animals until he hired his young, burly, gullible protégé, Jim.)

“What you need to do, Jim, is take these two natives, wade into the water and grab that great white shark.”

“That looks a little dangerous, don’t you think, Mr. Perkins?”

“Aw, kid!  We used to do it that way all the time.  If it makes you feel any better you can shoot them with this tranquilizer dart from this $17.98 Daisy Air Pistol and then catch him in this seaweed net.”

This is how Jim reached the level he has today as the second most stitched-up man in show business after Evel Kneival.

            Where were we?  Oh, yes.  So this group would barter something for the camels – say wooly mammoth tusks, or better yet, a wooly mammoth – and then head back to Nebraska, which back then was called something more primitive, like…  Arkansas.  In order to return with these camels, or even get there in the first place, these daring zoologists had to cross the Bering Land Bridge, the remains of which now stand on either side of the Bering Strait, so called even though it’s kind of curved.  Now the bridge itself was built by early engineers as a means to get to Las Vegas for conventions and to follow escaping caribou which would swim aroundand circle back to take the beach a couple hundred yards to the south.  The hunters didn’t know that, however, so they had prehistoric construction crews build the bridge out of land.  This only makes architectural sense because this was, of course, before the “iron” age or the “bronze” age or even the “stone” age.  This was as far back as the “dirt” age, so the early engineers used dirt for everything:  bridges, houses, office buildings, computers, chicken dinners – everything.

            Finally, when the journey was complete, they placed the camels in cages – which were, of course, made of dirt.  That’s why today there is no evidence of the pens used to house the different animals.  Because of this, some archaeological scientists have come up with the inane idea that these camels found their way over here by themselves and have since become extinct.  This is the kind of far-fetched supposition which gives science a bad name.  Take all those mammoths found in the tar pits.  Archaeologists would have us believe that these animals were so stupid that one of them got stuck in the muck and the rest of them just followed him in. 

            I think it’s rather self-centered to believe that just because these mammals are not humans or that they aren’t evolved to the point of low-fat cuisine that they automatically have the intelligence of all-star wrestlers.

            I think it proves that these early people domesticated these animals – and used them on road crews where they were accidentally caught in the hot oil used to asphalt the road.

The cold northwest wind is finally subsiding and the legally regulated Memorial Day rains have fallen.  Trees are greening, the lawn is growing.  Now my thoughts are turning to bicycling, canoeing, hiking, camping – outdoor activities stressing the word “active”!  Pastimes which get me out, take me away from the everyday pressures of normal life; hobbies that lead me to semi-distant locales.

And the problem I now encounter stems from the fact that I have to retrieve this equipment from my garage.

Now, the garage is the universal home-owners catch-all.  Well, you park your car in it, if you have room, but face it; it catches the overflow.  It’s what I use for any piece of bric-a-brac too large to fit in that junk drawer in the house.  Historically, bric-a-brac, possibly a French word meaning, um, broken bricks, was kept out behind the garage – maybe.  After all, eventually a use would be found for the smaller pieces just like you’ll find a use for that box of textbooks from 1962 and that broken car fender mounted basketball backboard.

All through the winter, from maybe November until the kids can no longer find room for their bicycles, I take all of the broken, found, useless junk and place it in the garage.  This transfer is handled in a very precise and systematic manner.  What I normally do is – and of course, this depends on the size of the item – open the door and throw the object in.  Now the trick here is to get the door closed before the object lands somewhere.  When dealing with heavy objects you have to be really quick in order to get the door shut soon enough.  It’s kind of a game and it lasts until you eventually have to go in and clear the field.

An important part of building this game is your significant other.  My wife chooses what goes to the garage.  Oh, she doesn’t intend for these items to go directly to the garage.  Most of them, as a matter of fact, she thinks should go to the garbage, but either way, she’ll let me know what has to go.  Normally this is done using a non-verbal technique in which she stops in front of an item in the living room, looks at it for 23.7 seconds, glances around the room as if seeking a better place for it or maybe looking for the vandal who left it there, and then glares at me.  Verbal communication can usually be avoided if I remove the object after 3 or 4 of these exercises.  Those of you without wives should get one in order to play the game properly.  If you don’t have a wife, your garages are probably spotless – but then I’ve been in a lot of your living rooms and trust me, you need someone to help you play the game.

My biggest problem with cleaning the garage is not the labor involved – that’s part’s easy.  After all I have a teenager who wants money and permission to go to the movie.  The hardest part is the mental work – deciding what to do with all the valuable things you’ve been saving for the past year.  Things you know you’re going to need eventually.  When finally faced with the need, I usually approach this problem the same way I attack all household dilemmas…I get in the car and go for coffee.  When I finally come back, I will sort the items into three categories:  items to be sold, items to be saved and items to be tossed.  Obviously, if you first wanted to save some of this stuff, it must be good enough to sell, right?  So the determination must be made if someone will pay for an old portable stereo which is perfectly good except for the complex switching system which won’t allow you to turn the unit on in the first place.  The answer is, of course, no; but since you know the speakers and the cd unit still work, you’ll have to save it.  Eventually you’ll find that the “sell” and “throw” piles are minimal, at best, while the “save” pile appears to be a simple reorganization of the garage contents… you know, the contents you had intended to divest yourself of.  Eventually you spend the largest part of your time repeatedly going through these items until you have retained just enough “good stuff” to hide in the garage under the guise of “organization.”  This normally takes a whole weekend.

Like anything else, this situation can be averted or at least minimized by adding garage space, but if your neighbor won’t let you build on his lot, you’ll have to try one of these several options:

Probably the most popular method of dealing with the symptoms of junk-keepage is the addition of more storage area in the form of those little yard barns which aren’t actually big enough to hold domesticated farm animals.  I believe they were originated several centuries ago in an effort to salvage the career of an early American barnsmith with a very poor sense of proportion.

If you don’t have enough room in your yard for even a small additional building, you could possibly add a storage loft to your present garage.  Of course, while you’re building it you’ll have to find someplace for all that good stuff you’ve already got straddling the rafters.  For this purpose, you may wish to rent storage area in one of those complexes with the looooooong garages laid out in intricate patterns so as to form a maze in which you store your stuff, but then never again find the unit you had rented.  The folks who rent these things out know that – as a matter of fact, they designed and built them with that in mind.  I think they even shuffle the numbers once in a while to make sure you have difficulty finding the right door.  These are sharp business people.  They saw a niche and filled it.  They looked at the demographics, they calculated local statistics and they computed probable overhead and possible demand.  And, most importantly, they, too, had a problem with junk filling their garages so they know that you’ll come by two or three times, wander around looking for your unit and then go home.  They also know that since this is overflow junk, junk you really don’t need but can’t quite admit you really don’t need, you will probably forget all about it.  I believe what they do is keep an eye out for you for the first two months or so.  If you come by and half-heartedly look around for your unit, then go home without asking where it’s at, they back up a truck to the door, load your stuff and haul it out to the land fill.  No, that’s not true.  There’s no money in it. What they do is call a camera crew and auction off the unit’s content’s.  But that’s a different stupid story.

I have an interest in classic automobiles.  Those of you unfamiliar with this area of collectibles, as well as the spouses of those of us who are, probably recognize them more readily (as incorrect and closed-minded as you are) by the term “old cars.”  Some people, unaware of the status of less, um, polished vehicles in this class may refer to them as “junkers.”  This is incorrect terminology…these vehicles are valuable “parts cars.”

I think I inherited this acute interest from my father, who was a classic automobile “aficionado”, which is a Spanish word that means “person whose lawn looks like a salvage yard”.  Dad helped me with my first car.  Actually, Dad picked my first car which was a 1960 Plymouth Sport Fury 2-door hardtop with a blunt front end, a sloping rear “picture” window and the largest fins of any car ever made with the possible exception of the Batmobile (the movie one that Michael Keaton drove, not the television one driven by Adam West).  True, many cars from that era incorporated fins into their design, but the vertical plane on these things had the same surface area, roughly, as Rhode Island.  This attributed to its exceptional highway stability, ease of identification in parking lots and pointed fingers and chuckles from most of the kids in my school.  I loved that car!

But only in retrospect.

While it is largely a male interest, there are many women who take up this hobby.  It can be acquired from many sources, very few of which are viral or bacterial in nature.  The most obvious reason for the desire of the classic auto is the 25^th class reunion, or rather, nostalgia.  A good share of this is due to fond memories of past ownership of a given vehicle…or fond memories of its’ moonlit backseat, as the case may be.  Sometimes a person wishes to acquire a car like the one Dad used to have when they were kids.  This is so they can sit in the back and eat ice cream, which they were never allowed to do in Dad’s Studebaker.  Or perhaps they just always wanted a 1970 Road Runner but couldn’t afford the insurance payment when they were young and felt the hormonal urge to mark every corner of their territory with a black rubber line – two if they could afford posi-traction.

There are some people who desire a classic automobile because they feel, in this way, they can have an interesting, respectable car exhibiting character without spending the money on a new vehicle.  It is true that a quality classic automobile carries its’ own aura of respect and individualism, but that’s because anyone familiar with this interest will recognize the fact that for the money tied up in that ’62 Chevy Impala SS 2 door hardtop, the owner could have a new CTS, a two year old, low mileage MKZ and box seats at the playoffs.  And that doesn’t even take into consideration the fact that when they built these vehicles gas was 28 cents a gallon and wasn’t a major economic or environmental consideration.  Because of this, these cars take about the same amount of fuel at a fill as, say, a B-52 wing tank.

The only truly valid reason for desiring to own a classic automobile is the honest appreciation of the style of the period.  Style such as the rare and short-lived Tucker, built with many safety and engineering innovations such as a rear engine and seat belts for all passengers – only 51 were ever made, so you’ll probably need your credit card…or Bill Gates’ credit card.  Or the Deusenberg; each car individually designed for the buyer.  Or the Cadillac – the only automobile ever designed that, for some unknown reason, doesn’t look really stupid painted in that light pink color.  The style of each automobile also tells a great deal about society at the time of its’ production.  The advance in engineering in the 40’s which allowed the fenders to be integrated into the vehicle design rather than tacked on afterward.  The continuous increase in engine size and power,  The futuristic leanings of the 50’s which brought about fins and rocket style tail-lights, not to mention Ralph Nader, who brought about civil suits, mandatory seat belts and more expensive cars.  If you were saved by a seatbelt or an airbag, you may wish to send Ralph a thank you note.  If you can’t afford to buy a new car because of the ridiculous monthly payments, well, you understand why you can’t find Ralph’s address anywhere.

In terms of aesthetic layout, dash configurations are among my favorite areas of design.  My first car, for example, was built by the Chrysler Corporation during an apparently troubled time in the company’s history.  It seems, when looking at the vehicles of the day, that all the engineers with experience went over to the Ford Motor Company to work on the Edsel, which only proves that too many cooks ruin the upholstery, or the grill, as would be in this case.   In terms of placement, the dash was in front of the driver – that part was correct.  And for the most part, everything was there, but the rear view mirror was sticking up from the dash and, when it became loose, had a tendency to fall over, giving you an excellent defensive driving view of the Coke bottles under the passenger seat.  In addition, the speedometer sat atop the dash on two short pillars.  I always kind of figured that this particular part of the design came about by accident:

“Ed, c’mere once!  Look at this dash – does something seem wrong there?”

“No, it looks okay to…Mike, what’s that on your desk there?”

“Um, looks like the speedometer, Ed.”

“Well, don’t you think you could use that?  Here…take this piece of metal, cut it in half and bolt the gauge through it onto the top of the dash like so.  Looks great, huh!?”

“Yeah, Ed, but that was the fitting to connect the rearview mirror to the top of the windshield.”

You can see by this example that qualified designers, engineers and support people are necessary to create an automobile that’s timeless and classic.  Keep this in mind when seeking out that treasure, that car which shows your personality; your character…and then pick one with two seats and a huge motor.  You can never go wrong with leg cramps and lousy mileage.