Measuring My Men: Motors, Mileage, Mufflers and More

In order to understand the very diverse men in my life, I try to size them up using their individual relationships with their cars.

My father has now retired, but was a professional geologist.  He has always been very outdoorsy.  He's known for chipping a rock here, collect a fossil over there.  He is definitely a man's man, but has never been very fond of any kind of machinery.  Gears and motors have a way of bring out his inner beast even though he is a real gentleman.  I can remember times when I was very young, watching my dad with his head under the hood of a car and hearing him cussing at the Industrial Age.

My father would always change the tires on our Volkswagen camper, but I never saw him fawning over aftermarket center caps or grille work.  While he would occasionally dab some Rust-o-leum onto oxidized spots on the van or put water in the radiator, you would never seem him take a Q-tip to the dashboard knobs or scrub the headlights with a toothbrush.

On the other hand, my father-in-law is definitely a car many.  He can tell you the make, model and year of every vehicle that's traveled down the Pennsylvania turnpike.  His ideal way to spent a Saturday afternoon would be checking out a 1962 Chevy at a local Antique Club Car Show or scrubbing his own whitewalls.

He graduated quickly from a pacifier to a pitchfork and wrench while growing up in a rural area of northern Pennsylvania.  Learning all about animal husbandry and the ABCs of mechanics was expected of young farm boys.  His interest in things with gadgets, wheels, and motors seemed to stick even though any fondness for animals did not.  He made the decision to leave the farm and go to college and he never looked back.

My husband is a professor, just like his father and my father, but that is where their similarities end.  He doesn't meticulously clean his cars, collect rocks, or go camping.  He likes to spend Saturdays enjoy coffee at a local Starbuck, grading papers, and catching up with friends on Facebook.

He keeps his car full of gas, but would probably use aftermarket center caps for paperweights rather than using them to pimp his ride with them.  He makes it a point to vacuum his car twice a year and doesn't mind driving around with "Wash me!" on the back window for a year or more.

The young man that my daughter dates is a juiced up version of my father-in-law. When I have the opportunity, I am going to send them to an auto parts store together so they can bond quickly. My daughter gave her boyfriend performance exhaust kit for his birthday and his is thrilled that the tailpipe rumbles deeply. He says it lets everyone know he's arrived. My daughter smiles saying, "I can hear him coming from more than a mile away." It's obvious that she's in the throes of young love!

It's true that men and the relationships they have with their cars are complicated. It seems that these relationships can be an expression of some men's masculinity, while other men treat their cars as and adversary that's a nuisance that must be conquered or endured.

Some men blaspheme their cars and others name them. Some men give their cars plenty of TLC while some fight for bragging rights because their vehicle has the highest mileage or is the most beat up. Men exchange car stories over beers, just like war stories are shared around a campfire.

This is the reason the auto industry sells billions of dollars worth of window tinting, aftermarket center caps, dashboard accessories, chrome, seat covers, rims, car alarms, backup sensors, hoods, tailpipes, and decals.

Whether the ride in the driveway is the cause for cooing or cursing, there has to be some sort of mechanical mojo happening - something like, "if you build it, he will come."