Back in the early 80's, I was living alone in my parents' house in Ft Myers, Florida. Yep, a four bedroom house complete with a pool...and best of all, rent-free (that's a story unto itself). My car at the time was a 1972 VW 411 that I had inherited from my grandfather. No air-conditioning and black vinyl interior in Florida, what a treat! Yes, that is me and the wonder vehicle in the photo on the left...note the tan (probably the darkest I have ever been...I worked on a golf course in FL), the high school class ring and, of course, the Ozzy Osbourne concert shirt. This was not what I would consider my intellectual period...and here are a few car stories to prove it:At some point, the lock cylinder on my VW started to have problems. Every now and then, the mechanism that locked the key in the ignition would jam. This would require me to unplug the cylinder from the electrical harness, remove it, and reset the mechanism. One day, probably when I was running late to work, the lock cylinder jammed but my normal procedure failed to reset the jam. There I was holding the lock cylinder in my hand, trying and trying to reset it...and getting more and more frustrated with each attempt. Eventually, I hit my boiling point and decided I would show that lock who was in charge...I threw it down on my driveway with all the might I could muster. Not exactly the cleverest thing to do. As I watched in horror, the entire lock cylinder exploded from the force and pieces went flying in every direction. So...what was a poor boy to do? I had a job to get to and a car that could get me there, it was just missing that key piece of equipment...the ignition switch. Armed with some wire strippers and no knowledge whatsoever, I went to work and within about 5 minutes I figured out how to hotwire a car (its actually pretty easy). Later that day, I ran by Radio Shack and made a few purchases and before you know it, I had the only car I have ever seen that started by flipping a switch and pressing a button...impressive, no?
After having survived a few winters in VA and then a year in the brutal Ft Myers sun, the lovely green paint job on my car started to look really bad. The color became faded and splotc
hy and in some places the paint was flaking off. Given these circumstances, one day my friend and I decided it was high time to give it a new, homemade paint job. And what color did we decide to paint it? Why, what other color could we possibly pick except camouflage? And not just any camouflage...oh no, this was special...we used spray paint and unwittingly mixed forest and desert colors. Needless to say, from that day on, I received many, many "compliments" from other drivers on the road..."nice war wagon!"..."Hey! Does Hitler know you have his car?"...and other such fun. Feel free to add your own comments...I've even included the photo on the right to give that all important visual. Trash the car as you deem appropriate, but please be kind to me...that was my orange haired Tom Petty period and I am still recovering from the emotional scars.
Ft Myers is separated from Cape Coral, the town just to the west, by the Caloosahatchee River. Back in those days, there was only one bridge that spanned the river connecting the two towns, the Cape Coral Bridge. At 3400 feet long and 55 feet tall, this was not an insignificant bridge...If you don't believe me, check out the picture (and its all artsy too, framed by a tree and all). So one day I went over to Cape Coral to return some videos I had rented the previous day. Since I had only had the tapes for a day, I expected, go figure, to pay for just one day's rental. So imagine my surprise when the wonderfully helpful sales clerk said that it had been over 24 hours (it had been just over 25) so I would have to pay an extra day's rental. Being a perpetually broke person at that point in my life (I mean, for goodness sakes, look at the car I was driving), I was not happy. Suddenly, my spiteful side rose up and decided that if I was going to pay for an extra day, I would be damned if I would let them rent the tape again and get double the fee. I took the videos with me and vowed to return the next day at precisely the cut off time so that I would get every penny's worth...and the store would not have the opportunity to rent again before then. There I was, crossing the Cape Coral bridge heading for home, when I glanced over at the offending videos on the seat next to me. It all suddenly hit me...the extra cost, the fact that I would have to go back to Cape Coral tomorrow...and yes, probably my stupidity at not just returning the tapes. In a burst of frustration, I hit the steering wheel...and it came off in my hand! For just a split second, I continued trying to steer with the disembodied wheel...then I stared at it, failed at trying to jam it back on the steering column and threw it into the back seat. By this time, my car was heading for the edge of the bridge just about at the midpoint...the highest point of the span. In a frenzy of panic, I grabbed the exposed steering hub and tried to steer with it. In case you are ever in this situation, let me give you some advice...do not try this! It is impossible to do and will tear up your hands to boot. Luckily my feet are smarter than my head and they had figured out to hit the brake pretty quickly. My car rolled to a stop within inches of the guard rail...whew! I turned on my flashers and just sat there for a few minutes catching my breath. Then I retrieved the steering wheel from the back seat, very carefully worked it back on the hub, and drove home. I believe I spent the rest of the day floating around the pool with a cool drink trying very hard not to think about what happened. Curiously, I have no recollection of whether I actually made it back to the store in time with the videos...but I'm sure if I was late, I would have just paid the fee.
