The wheels that drove my life story

Lately, there seems to be an awful lot to think about, worry about, and even get down about.

COVID, Ukraine, mass shootings, and I could go on. Suffice to say, the news is hard to watch, and maybe that’s why I find myself watching Ed Sullivan, “To Tell the Truth,” and “Columbo” reruns. At times, a little escape can be good for our mental health.

So, if you don’t mind, let’s take a beginning of summertime break. For me, no season compares to summertime when it comes to defining happiness. Swimming pools, cookouts, bicycles, motorcycles, golf, ice cream, and the sweet smell of a freshly mowed lawn. This is only the shortlist of many cherished summer memories that come to mind.

For some reason, I love caring for cars in my warm weather garage in the summer. I’ll wax and scrub anybody’s car. My daughter’s, my wife’s, my sisters’ cars, whomever. Give me a sun-filled garage, and a little Yacht Rock radio and I’m in heaven. Boz Scaggs, Christopher Cross, Beach Boys blaring on my speakers, and there’s no stopping me.

Speaking of cars, I had the crazy idea of listing the top cars that influenced my life for a change of pace.

My dad’s Cadillac: Before my dad lost his business, he’d drive a new Cadillac every three years. I don’t think I even have words to describe the look and the alluring smell of the real leather interior of those iconic beauties. Even as a little kid, I could feel and smell success sitting in the back as my dad glided through the city.

Quick Service cab: My mom didn’t drive, so occasionally I’d find myself in the back of a cab. Mostly with my mom, brothers, sisters, and lots of packages from Hess’s. The old school cabs had little pull-up seats from the floor in the back. Way too dangerous for a child by today’s standards, but I loved them. We had a driver we’d request ... Mr. Acker. He wasn’t a big talker, but a nice man with a warm, clean car. I was mesmerized hearing his dispatch radio blaring instructions across the airwaves. It felt safe and special to me. Maybe that’s why I’ve never taken Uber. Nobody can match Mr. Acker.

My GTO and MGB: One was a muscle car and the other a cool British sports car. I bought them both used. Used cars in the 60s were far more worn than today’s longer-lasting cars. But with the top down and the AM radio blaring, I made some incredible lifetime memories with those two.

The bus: I mostly walked to school, but in sixth grade, every student in the district went to The Sheridan School and took the bus. I loved taking that bus. It was always filled with lots of chatter. Sometimes I’d go to the back by myself to stare out the window and take in all activities of the city.

My Honda 305: I’m not sure why my dad let me buy a new motorcycle ($800 new back then). As dangerous as it was, at 16 years of age, I loved it. It was The Beach Boys Honda riding era. There I was flying down Route 22 wearing my flip flops and no helmet. You ever look back and thanked God you’re still alive?

My delivery truck: Loaded with eggs, chickens, french fries, and anything else the downtown restaurants needed. Driving the delivery truck for my dad was my summer job. Navigating the streets and alleys of downtown was an amazing lesson in driving, dealing with customers, and just feeling alive. The sounds of bustling traffic, the smells of the abundant restaurants, and sights of the thousands of downtown workers make recalling that time a “make you smile memory.”

Speaking of cars, let me say we’re fortunate to have amazing community-minded dealers here in the Lehigh Valley. Rob Bennett, Andy Scott, Andy and Tom Daub, Art and Andy Wright … just to name a few. All good people committed to the Valley, employing thousands of our neighbors and continuously giving back to local charities whenever asked. Next time you consider an online purchase, ask them to contribute to your local charity. Good luck with that.

So, don’t take your car for granted. Not only will it take you where you wanna go at that moment, but it may take you to a place that will remain with you for a lifetime. Take it from a guy who just had his 70th birthday. Memories can literally light up your heart and, when things get kind of crazy, memories can be a necessary, wonderful escape.