Like most North Americans, cars have played a pretty major role in my daily life. They've also played their part in many of my happiest memories: Sunday drives in the country (in the days when people still did that), road trips with friends, family holidays. As much as I'd like to see my car only as a tool that gets me from A to B, I have to admit; it's more than that. Growing up in an immigrant family, I understood that owning a vehicle was an achievement. We belonged.
The two things my father knew about Canada before he immigrated was that it was a country of cowboys and big American cars. Soon after arriving, he bought himself cowboy hat and soon after that, a big, used American car that broke down regularly. He knew it had to go when it left him stranded on a narrow cliff-side road in the Rocky Mountains.
So began my father's lifelong relationship with Volkswagen. As a thrifty person, even in the '60s he appreciated the miserly gas consumption of the practical little cars. One of my first car-related memories is of his brand-new 1965 Bug, the white interior upholstery covered in tiny pin holes, the creamy white knobs that worked the windshield wipers and cigarette lighter and, of course, the giant white steering wheel.
What I didn't know in 1965 was that that car would be mine about 14 years later, and I was thrilled to drive it. Like many ageing cars, though, it wasn't dependable. So much so, that I was on a first-name basis with many of the mechanics who worked for the Automobile Association Roadside Assistance. I learned to drive in the right-hand lane in case the car decided to break down.
Since that first Beetle, I've owned a string of reliable small cars and (reluctantly in recent years) a couple of dependable minivans. Now that the kids are almost grown we've downsized to a MINI Cooper that has plenty of zip, can fit into tiny parking spots, and easily accommodates groceries for a family of four.
The thing I love most about cars is their design -the vintage boxiness of a Model T, the flaring tail fins of a 1959 Rambler, the smooth curves of today's sports cars - they all evoke the beauty of form and function, just like a sleek Danish chair or an art-deco building.
And while I try to minimize my environmental footprint by trying to drive less, I have to admit that the car makes my life a lot easier. I look forward to new clean technologies that will allow us not only to continue to enjoy the convenience of driving, but also to leave a cleaner, sustainable world to our children.
The two things my father knew about Canada before he immigrated was that it was a country of cowboys and big American cars. Soon after arriving, he bought himself cowboy hat and soon after that, a big, used American car that broke down regularly. He knew it had to go when it left him stranded on a narrow cliff-side road in the Rocky Mountains.
So began my father's lifelong relationship with Volkswagen. As a thrifty person, even in the '60s he appreciated the miserly gas consumption of the practical little cars. One of my first car-related memories is of his brand-new 1965 Bug, the white interior upholstery covered in tiny pin holes, the creamy white knobs that worked the windshield wipers and cigarette lighter and, of course, the giant white steering wheel.
What I didn't know in 1965 was that that car would be mine about 14 years later, and I was thrilled to drive it. Like many ageing cars, though, it wasn't dependable. So much so, that I was on a first-name basis with many of the mechanics who worked for the Automobile Association Roadside Assistance. I learned to drive in the right-hand lane in case the car decided to break down.
Since that first Beetle, I've owned a string of reliable small cars and (reluctantly in recent years) a couple of dependable minivans. Now that the kids are almost grown we've downsized to a MINI Cooper that has plenty of zip, can fit into tiny parking spots, and easily accommodates groceries for a family of four.
The thing I love most about cars is their design -the vintage boxiness of a Model T, the flaring tail fins of a 1959 Rambler, the smooth curves of today's sports cars - they all evoke the beauty of form and function, just like a sleek Danish chair or an art-deco building.
And while I try to minimize my environmental footprint by trying to drive less, I have to admit that the car makes my life a lot easier. I look forward to new clean technologies that will allow us not only to continue to enjoy the convenience of driving, but also to leave a cleaner, sustainable world to our children.
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| Photo: Matthieu Lambert/Auto123.com |