Friday, February 05, 2010

PowerFlite my ass

 Déjà vu

Boned Jello

This is a great sideshow RAK sent me, and is sure to rekindle some old memories (unless you're too young to know the lyrics to the Micky Mouse Club song).  This picture of a 1958 Plymouth Fury sure took me back to some not-too-fond mems. Got my driver's license driving the cheaper Savoy model; the family car.  It had a PowerFlite 2 speed Push Button transmission, which was way cool (at the time).  Our car was painted  Bluebonnet Blue, with an optional white top.

The very first time I drove her as a licensed driver was to pick up my sister,  and her girlfriend Leslie at the Jr. High. "Pick them up, drop Leslie off, and come right home," my mother instructed. 

There was long oval driveway approach to the school, and I could see the two of them standing there as I approached.  Making the final turn I floored the accelerator, an act similar to a Peacock showing his colors, and promptly went into a spin.  I was stopped by a curb that was just about an inch higher than the car's drive train.  In short, I had gone hard-aground. 


About a year later, just about the time I had paid for damage from that mishap, I had the family car for two hours one Saturday.  My dad limited me to 50 miles, and took beginning and ending odometer readings.  Friends from Chicago, from whence we had just moved, were visiting, and we were all headed to see Washington D.C. the next morning. I was instructed to have the tank filled with gas.

PowerFlite
I picked up my friend Wally, and we drove to Beaver Springs swimming hole in Cockeysville.  Pulling into the lot, Wally said whoa, there's Sharon and Nancy.  I slowed, and just before coming to a stop I pressed the "R" button.  I forget what sound it made, but there was one.  And the car would not drive in reverse. OMFG!  We tried everything. 

It was here that I invoked my version of Cal Coolidge's "If you see ten
troubles coming down the road, you can be sure that nine will run into the ditch before they reach you."  Which meant, it'll fix itself. I pulled into the carport, hoping beyond hope (I thought my chances pretty good) that a good night's rest would cure the sumbitch.

Now, my bedroom was located on the wall next to the driveway.  The next morning my mom poked her head in to ask if I'd changed my mind about going.  I had not.  There was no way I was getting into that car.

I heard the happy chatter as they piled into Blue Beauty.  I heard four doors slam. 
Hail Mary full of grace ...  The car started right up, a good sign.  ... the Lord is with thee ...  *heard kind of a "clunk" sound* .. hallowed be thy ...*sound of engine racing*.

Oh shit! Dad started the engine, and restarted it several times.  I heard the hood being opened, some muttering ("What the Deuce?!?"), then slamming shut. Then my bedroom door flew open.


"What?  You're kidding?" 

I think that's what I said when he asked me to explain why his car would not back up.  Then I confessed.  But offered a ray of hope and sunlight.
(I am not making this up) "It still goes forward. We can push it out of the driveway, and you can go to DC, and not park where you have to back-up."   

He was very, very pissed.  Very pissed.  It was a year before I paid that off (mowing lawns).  I still hate that fkn car. What a P.O.S.



PS - I used to drag race it at the US 40 Drag-strip in York, PA.  When you lost, which I always did on the first race, they threw a bucket of water on your windshield to wash off your classification and number.  My dad would always ask on Sunday morning where I was to get "chalky stuff" all over the hood last night?   I would always answer, "I dunno."


24 comments:

JMcD said...

I can't remember if I already showed you guys the 789Chevy yet.

Anonymous said...

That's a '61 or '62 Falcon on the far right patially cropped from photo. I have a '63 in the garage. Convertable. Nice toy.
Tim

Anonymous said...

My father had a '58 Plymouth and loved it. Lots of good memories of going to Ocean City and Sunday rides in the country north of pre-beltway Baltimore, when it was some of the prettiest farm country ever.
Also remember the rope swing at Beaver Dam. That quarry had some deep water, over 50'. It was a bit of a rush swimming there, because there was no wading in gradually, just splash and wayyyyy over your head. Nicest thing was all the rocky platforms and cliffs, and tha water was always cool and refreshing, and no chlorine. Dive deep and the colder water at 10-12' depth would take your breath away. We used to sneak into another abandoned quarry at Texas, which was great fun because it wasn't as deep as Beaver Dam and you could snorkel it and see the bottom at 20-30'. There were lots of fish to watch and an old car on the bottom, a Model A or Model T Ford.
Good times.
Lt. Col. Gen. Tailgunner dick

Rodger the Real King of France said...

Beaver Springs was just down the road from Beaver Dam. Smaller, but you could wade in. Didn't have that tire swing though, like BD. Used to go to CYO dances at St. Joes, Texas. Did you go to the Peacock?

Anonymous said...

I drove my Mom's 56 DeSoto with Firedome -331 Hemi as my first car. Took 80 eleben seconds to get to sixty, but once rolling, it would bury the speedo on those leaf springs and bias ply tires. Just don't try to stop too short. It is a wonder I am alive.

Stick

Anonymous said...

Don't remember Beaver Springs, but the Peacock - whew, that rang the chord of mystic memory. If you hadn't asked I doubt I'd ever recall that again.. Memory is fuzzy, but wasn't it the Peacock Inn, a drive-in where they'd bring your food on a tray that hung off your window glass? My buddy had an MG-TD, which having no window glass, was a good conversation starter with the car hops.

I recall turning west off York Rd and through the town of Texas to go to our secret quarry, and driving along the bumpy twisted street was like stepping into a time warp, passing what seemed to be a big church for such a small place with its tiny houses all crowded together. Texas was what remained of a substantial quarrying/mining community of mostly late 19th century Irish immigrants, which would explain a Catholic church being there. St Joseph must have been that church.
Did you go there to atone for sins at Beaver Springs, or did you live in the area?
Lt. Col. Gen. Tailgunner dick

MoFiZiX Gr4FiX said...

My old man had a 1964 Mercury Park Lane convertible w/ a 390 Super Marauder and a "Multi-Drive Merc-O-Matic" push-button tranny. He bought the demo car off the showroom floor. He said the sticker price was close to $5k and because it had 150mi on it and he knew the salesman, he claims that he only paid $3250 for it. I borrowed it a couple of times back in the early '80s and was able to lay rubber with it both in 1st gear off the line and in 2nd gear at about 35-40mph. Aside from replacing the rag-top in 1978 and touch-ups, it remained all original. He sold it in 1998 for $10k to help pay for his chemotherapy treatments and lost his battle to cancer in the summer of 2004. That was the hottest car I've ever driven and I miss that machine almost as much as I miss my old man.

Here is a picture of it taken around 1990...

MoFiZiX Gr4FiX said...

Correction: He lost his battle w/ cancer in the summer of 2002.

Anonymous said...

Yes, I remember the Peacock and the Timonium Drive In, also Ameche's off Loch Raven Blvd. and the original Gino's on York Rd as you were heading north out of Towson. Lived off Seminary Ave. in Lutherville '58-'62. Learned to drive on my parent's '57 Chrysler New Yorker 4D Hardtop, blue and white two-tone. 325HP 392CI early Hemi and a three speed push button transmission.

Caught the Bus on Seminary in my uniform to go to the McDonogh School in Owings Mills. At that time it was all boys and military, today it is neither.

JLW III

Anonymous said...

One Saturday night I accidentally punched the reverse button in the family '62 New Yorker while driving about 30 mph. What an awful noise! But, I immediately hit the correct button, and no ill effects and no next morning confession required. A great car.
mary

Anonymous said...

I love the '69-'73 Chevy truck in that photo MoFiZiX Gr4FiX. I have a '68 long bed. Obama made me ashamed of GM.
Tim

Anonymous said...

I used to get going about 55mph in the 56 Firedome DeSoto & push low gear to listen to the dual exhaust rumble as it slowed on the compression. Did it at 60 once and the push buttons all fell out in the floor. My dad was in insurance & very suspicious of anything. I managed to pack the buttons into their slots on flat spring loaded rods as I remember & push the faceplate back on while holding the buttons in place. There was a little click at the bottom & NOT BUSTED. I was a very lucky SOB. My little brother - not so much. Wrecked two cars before he turned 16 after I was gone to protect the East Coast from Communism on an ocean going Minesweeper.


Stick

David said...

I drove a 51 Olds Rocket 88 in high school. I was the friendliest cuss in school. Anyone who needed a car only had to ask and I would toss them my keys. Every single one of them would bring the keys back to me and sheepishly complain that it wouldn't start. I'd tell them no worries I'll take a look at it later.

Later I would get in the car, put the key in the ignition, turn it, nothing would happen, then i would push the little unmarked starter button next to the steering column. That old tank started up every time.

One day I got tailended by a guy in a volkswagon beetle. Totaled his car, crumpled it up like it was made of aluminum foil. I was sitting still with my foot on the brake at the time. My car was knocked forward about 6 feet. The only damage was a small 2 inch dent in the bumper.

I really miss that car, it had a hydromatic automatic transmission that could be push started if your friends were tough enough to actually move that much steel.

Anonymous said...

Due to some nocturnal off-roading through PA cornfields in dad's 65 Pontiac, I had to explain the presence of corn stalks hanging from the undercarriage the next day. He seemed to have bought the story of my turning around on a tractor path....

A few years later I had a 69 Chevy van into which I swapped a 283 and 400 turbo auto trans. I just used the original column shift lever that had operated the original 3-speed manual. This arrangement lacked those little notches that required lifting the shift lever to move out of park or into reverse. While buzzing down the highway at 65 I touched the shift lever and dropped it into reverse, locking the rear wheels and stalling the engine instantly. I figured the trans was scrap metal. I restarted it and drove away with no ill effects. That was a tough transmission. Don't try that with today's cars.

Annoyed White Male
WV: hogisha. I had a blind date with her once.

MoFiZiX Gr4FiX said...

Tim - That's a 71 C-10 what belonged to an old drinking buddy of mine.
If you liked that, here's one you'll appreciate...
A 1967 C-10 I restored for my great uncle back in 1990.

Anonymous said...

Roger, you magnificent bastard, that story made me snort Dr. Pepper out my nose! I haven't laughed that much in a month.

Thanks very much. Really.

H

JeremyR said...

My first wheels were under a 63 Mercury Monterrey, the one with the reverse sloped rear windo that rolled down. It was a greattank, and fun to cruise in. Got a 67 Pontiac Catalina once I had my permit. It had 36 miles on the odometer, and when I asked the old owner, my BiL if it was 100,036 he just laughed and said it had 100k on it when he got it. That Pontiac didn't use a drop of oil, and after I had tacked an additoinal 100k on it, I sold it to another BiL. After that it was a 65 F-100, then into a 1970 USS Galaxie 500. I bought it on the same day pop got a 62 Fairlane 500, and since mom liked the Galaxie, we traded. That old fairlane was a beauty, it would just burn up the road with a screaming top speed of just over 60mph. It was sporatic on oil, and when I sold it, I warned the buyer about the oil. After several weeks using narry a drop, he thought I was full of it, and quit checking. Called me about a month after buying it because it wouldn't start. When I checked the dip stick, nuthin, and when I pulled the drain plug, only a little dripped out.
Years later I got a 56 F-250 that I abused. That truck had a 292 that the previous owner had installed. The vintage stuff sure was great.

Rodger the Real King of France said...

What a rush looking at that engine compartment, Mo. If you look at that, then pop the hood of your own car, what you see is 30 years of gummint mandates.

MoFiZiX Gr4FiX said...

Rodge - I know exactly what you mean and couldn't agree more. Points and condenser, cap and rotor, regular muffler or glass packs, no computer chips, no spark control, no emission controls, and no catalytic converter. Those were the days when everything was so simple.
Since I see JeremyR is a Ford fan, allow me to present my baby...
1954 Ford F-100 Custom P/U
I've had it since 1975. It's got the original 223cu.in. straight 6 with an oil bath air cleaner. I dressed it up like the Dodge "Li'l Red Express" with wood siding and Thrush stacks. When I get another place to work on it, I am going to put a small block 305 or 351 Cleavland w/ street blower or tunnel ram, 3-speed on the floor, tight ass-end ratio, tilt-power steering, re-dun interior, chop 3 or 4 inches off the roof, drop both axles, tilt kit the nose, and hydraulic dump kit the bed. All I've got to do first is win the lottery and I'm on it!

MoFiZiX Gr4FiX said...

Here's another one for JeremyR...
1965 Ford Galaxy 500 convertible
I restored this one back in '86-'88 when I was worked at another shop before opening my own place in '89. The guy in the pictures brought it in with a U-Haul van filled with parts. Knowing that my old man and I did restorations prior to me working for him, the boss gave the project to me to do in my spare time. WHAT A PHUCKING NIGHTMARE!!! Every square inch of that car had to be reworked or replaced! Needless to say, the owner was so pleased with the finished product that, as a gratuity, he treated my girlfriend (now wife) and I to a free lobster dinner at his restaurant.

Anonymous said...

My Dad still had his first car, A 38 Olds 2 door coupe. He loved that car, Too bad we never got done restoring it before he died 2 years ago.

Just like this one:

http://oldcarandtruckpictures.com/Oldsmobile/1938OldsmobileCoupe-may24.jpg

THor~
III

Anonymous said...

Nice '67 MoFiZiX Gr4FiX. Like Rodger said. I love the straight 6 250. Simple and tons of power. Then you show the '65 Galaxy. My first car was a '66 Galaxy. A 289 and the Slush-O-Matic transmission.
Tim

TomR said...

My first. A 58 Ford Fairlane 500. 292 and three speed stick. Heavy and a bit under powered, but a fun car to drive. Then moved on to a 62 Impala SS, 327 four speed. Beautiful car, light blue color. My favorite car. Then a 72 Chevelle SS, 402. It had an automatic because I had lost use of my legs in the Army. Red with white stripes and cowl induction hood. Sold it just a few years ago.

Nowdays, all the cars look alike. I drive trucks.

Anonymous said...

One of the funniest "car stories" I've ever read:

http://groups.google.com/group/triangle.general/browse_thread/thread/4e6eb364be8b15d2/33aaf47cfbd4be40

(scroll down to Tom Gauldin: Crossing Kansas)

Trust me, it's worth the click

--Jack

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