Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Gran Torino

Long before the 2008 Clint Eastwood movie of the same name I owned two of them. I am speaking of the Ford Gran Torino. One a 1973 four door station wagon olive green with fake wood side panels that I drove most of the 11th and 12th grade. I went everywhere in that thing; assisted my dad in his piano tuning business, drove him to church trotted off to his preaching engagements and in later years to my job at WEAS. The thing looked like a tank and finally died when I lost the transmission in it.

Next was a tomato red two door Starsky and Hutch special. I loved that car. Unlike the TV show which featured a ‘74 model mine was a ‘76 without the broad white racing stripe. I had bought it from my station manager for a $1,000.00 and she let me make payments of $50.00 a paycheck. Good job security I suppose. I kept it detailed and made the local Western Auto my second home. One Sunday after church, I wrecked my baby by rear-ending a black Trans-Am or Camaro similar to the Smoky & the Bandit car Burt Reynolds drove. There was hardly a scratch on the car I hit. My eight year old beauty sustained major front end damage. The plastic grille was smashed along with a huge dent in the right front quarter panel. The one and only body shop estimate I got was for $1,200.00. Oh my God! 200 more than I paid for it. To top things off I was ticketed for driving too close, made a court appearance and covered the $50.00 fine. Unfortunately, I didn’t have collision insurance or $1,200.00 so I had to drive her wrecked.
 

Despite all the cosmetic flaws, I kept the Torino running good. I had a great honest mechanic at the Ford dealership who would do maintenance and repairs on his lunch break and charged me cost for the genuine Ford parts. I learned a lot about cars from this veteran wrench turner. He was a master diagnostician who seemed to know everything. God places the right people in your path.

I, on the other hand, was a complete novice. I bought a cheap Western Auto ratchet set and got started making repairs on a trial and mostly error basis with a Chilton’s manual by my side. One day I decided to remove the non functioning Eight Track stereo. Hey, I worked at a radio station so this should be reasonably easy. Right? I exorcised the unit and left a yawning hole in the panel which was never filled with a new radio. My dad ribbed me constantly for my amateur surgery. The patient did not survive. As a substitute I took along a Sony portable radio for musical accompaniment and news on the 30 minute ride to work every day.

From that point forward I decided to learn all I could about cars; their intricate electrical systems, ignitions, and parts. Self education paid off later in life when I embarked on a lucrative 13 year career in auto parts following my life in radio; obtaining an ASE certification along the way, all thanks to my initial tinkering with the Gran Torino.

Stay tuned.

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