It's that time of the year when on one day, the third Sunday in June that we are supposed to pay homage to our fathers. On this day, I want to honor fathers in a different way. Instead of just paying homage to just my biological father, I'd like to also give thanks to those men who inspired me to wrench and be a gear head.
From an early age, I've always had a fascination with cars and mechanical things in general. I am a tactile learner, so may be that has something to do with it. Even at the age of four or five, I could tell my dad the make, model and year of any given car. I knew the minutia of the design differences and used them to differentiate the different models and years. At an early age, I had two influences, my Uncle Carmine AKA Uncle Cam, and his son Robert AKA Bobby. Uncle Cam was a class A or master auto mechanic for Mack Markowitz Olds in Hempstead NY. He did it for 38 years and was a treasure trove of knowledge. His son Bobby became the chairman of the Automotive Technologies department at SUNY Farmingdale. Bobby could not only tell you what the right thing was, but also why, from an engineering point of view.
A remember a couple instances where they came to the rescue. I was doing a upper end job on the 400 CI small block in my 1983 Camaro. The threads in the bolt holes of the block were rusty, so I thought I would chase them with a tap, using WD-40 as a lubricant, backing out every couple turns to clear the rust and grime. Well, as luck would have it I used a little too much force and aggressiveness in turning the tap in that it snapped. I will in defense say that I am big guy and sometimes don't know my own strength, which used to bite me in the ass at times, from which I've learned to take a more gentle approach. Still, I was befuddled on how to get the tap out. Taps are made of tool steel and it isn't something you can drill out. I called Uncle Cam, who told me, oh, just buy a tap extractor and you should he able to get it out. A tap extractor? What's that? A tap extractor has fingers that go into the flutes on a tap and it has a ring that slides down to secure the fingers in the flutes. All I can say is that it worked.
Another time, I was helping a friend work in his 1980 GMC Jimmy, which is the same as a K-5 Blazer. Chris Cerlenko bought the Jimmy with the infamous 5.7L diesel. In the process of changing the fuel filter, he disconnected the fuel lines and reconnected them. Anyway, the engine wouldn't start. The 5.7 diesel is a creation of Oldsmobile. I placed a call to Uncle Cam and found out that there was probably air in the fuel lines. He told us how to bleed them and voilá, then engine started. These are just two example of the fatherly help I and others received from Uncle Cam, there are many others.
There are others I'd like to thank too. Thanks to cousins Don Seals and Don Ness (East Coast Restoration), Freddy Schenck who introduced me to Volkswagen, and a couple friends, Phil Saccio and Chris Modugno, all of whom taught me more than they ever realized. Happy Father's day to all of you and thank you for being there when I needed you. I'd also like to thank my real dad, who taught me the best skill of all: Patience.
Thank you for reading this blog.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Saturday, June 11, 2011
I Don't Know Dick
No pictures needed here. I admit it. I do not know dick...about a lot of things, in spite of an alleged education and experience. One thing it seems I don't know dick about it journalism, specifically motojournalism. I would like to know dick, but I don't. I admit it. Coming clean is the only way to get better.
Once upon a time, back in the days when I had no gray hair, I had no spouse let alone children, I had a dream. You see I had many interests, but topping the list was cars and motorcycles...and guns, but that is another story. In my so called mind, I thought I could do it. I thought I could write about what I loved. At the time I had a freshly minted degree in American Studies. I even graduated with honors. I had the bright idea to apply to New York University's graduate program in journalism. Today it's called the Arthur L. Carter Journalism Institute. I studied both broadcast and magazine journalism. I had great teachers like Jon Katz, Udayan Gupta, Jane Stone, David Dent, John Capouya, Bob Spitz and Mary Quigley. I also ran out of money, but that is another story too. I used to joke that I got a Harvard education for the price of a NYU education, but that sentiment is lost on most. It was and is a very expensive school, but you will be exposed to people and opportunities not found anywhere else.
Back then, the new media didn't really exist. There was newsprint, magazine and broadcast. I did a hybrid as both appealed to me for different reasons. Broadcast is fast paced, exciting and there's nothing like being in a studio with a live broadcast ready to go and the director counts down to show time. On the other hand, traditional print allows for more development of ideas and it appeals to my cerebral side. That said, life happens and through a series of circumstances, my life changed direction and the idea, the dream of writing or producing content for journalism went into the dustbin. One of things I did carry away was computer technology. When producing an issue of Manhattan South, the school magazine, I learned how to do magazine layout on a Macintosh. You see, no one else in the class wanted to do the dirty work. The other editors wanted to edit other students work or write the articles themselves. I ended up volunteering for the job of doing layout, but at the time I didn't realize where it would lead me.
Not long after this, I met my future wife and I decided to change careers. I wasn't doing journalism at the time, and I ended up going into technology, which I have been in for 17 years now. I specifically went into Macintosh technology, supporting pre-press shops and service bureaus in my first IT job. I got married, we had kids, bought a house and life moved on. During a period of underemployment after 9/11, I had gotten a new bike, a Vulcan 800 Classic, and the idea of writing crossed my mind again. At the time, I read several magazines and one of them was Roadbike. The tech editor at the time was Mark Zimmerman. I decided to email him and ask him out to lunch. To my total bewilderment, he accepted, and not only that, he took me out to lunch and although I had to ride up to Danbury, it was worth the trip. Mark is an incredibly funny, articulate and knowledgeable person. He's also gracious and open. I asked him if he could read some of the stuff I had written at NYU and give me his opinion. Like others before, he said I could write, but I need to work at more and develop my voice. Once again, life intervened and I ended up taking a job in Iowa, which move our family 1200 miles away. Over the years I have kept in touch with Mark although we haven't talked shop as it were.
Now, some years later I find myself at a point in life where I feel I need change. May be change isn't the right word, may be truth is the right word. I am tired of IT and even though I can do it, I feel no affinity for it, not anymore. It's like being able to do an autonomic bodily function. At that point, it becomes just that, if you know what I mean. So at the advanced age of 49, I have examined my options. Underlying this though is what I call "the four legs of the stool", and I am not talking autonomic bodily functions either. Consider it like a bar stool. One is engagement. I have to be engaged mentally, emotionally, may be spiritually and sometimes physically. I have to use my faculties to their fullest extent, if possible. Two is voice. Do I have a voice not only in what I will do or how I will do it, but just the act of being able to be heard, to have my opinion valued? Three is the social aspects. If I am with a group, how do I fit in, do I have a place where I am comfortable and am I accepted? Four is, "do I make a difference?" Is what I am doing shedding any new light, offering some value, making a difference in someone's day, in a more meaningful way than just "I fixed X". Honestly, right now I am 0 for 4. My options are to do nothing, to look for something in my current field and "settle" for a leg or two, or to change careers. Problem is, I don't know dick. I don't know Dick either. I'd like to as he seems like a good chap (someone I met on Linked In who gave me some advice), but where do I start (besides from the beginning)?
Hope is a funny thing. Not funny ha ha, but funny interesting. For me it has ebbed and flowed with the days and weeks like the tide that comes in and out of Monterrey Bay, which is down the block from where I am writing this now. If anyone has pointers, advice, words of encouragement or even deridement at this point, all will be welcome. Like Sisyphus, I need a rock to push against, but unlike Sisyphus, I need to push it over the hill.
Thank you for reading this blog.
Once upon a time, back in the days when I had no gray hair, I had no spouse let alone children, I had a dream. You see I had many interests, but topping the list was cars and motorcycles...and guns, but that is another story. In my so called mind, I thought I could do it. I thought I could write about what I loved. At the time I had a freshly minted degree in American Studies. I even graduated with honors. I had the bright idea to apply to New York University's graduate program in journalism. Today it's called the Arthur L. Carter Journalism Institute. I studied both broadcast and magazine journalism. I had great teachers like Jon Katz, Udayan Gupta, Jane Stone, David Dent, John Capouya, Bob Spitz and Mary Quigley. I also ran out of money, but that is another story too. I used to joke that I got a Harvard education for the price of a NYU education, but that sentiment is lost on most. It was and is a very expensive school, but you will be exposed to people and opportunities not found anywhere else.
Back then, the new media didn't really exist. There was newsprint, magazine and broadcast. I did a hybrid as both appealed to me for different reasons. Broadcast is fast paced, exciting and there's nothing like being in a studio with a live broadcast ready to go and the director counts down to show time. On the other hand, traditional print allows for more development of ideas and it appeals to my cerebral side. That said, life happens and through a series of circumstances, my life changed direction and the idea, the dream of writing or producing content for journalism went into the dustbin. One of things I did carry away was computer technology. When producing an issue of Manhattan South, the school magazine, I learned how to do magazine layout on a Macintosh. You see, no one else in the class wanted to do the dirty work. The other editors wanted to edit other students work or write the articles themselves. I ended up volunteering for the job of doing layout, but at the time I didn't realize where it would lead me.
Not long after this, I met my future wife and I decided to change careers. I wasn't doing journalism at the time, and I ended up going into technology, which I have been in for 17 years now. I specifically went into Macintosh technology, supporting pre-press shops and service bureaus in my first IT job. I got married, we had kids, bought a house and life moved on. During a period of underemployment after 9/11, I had gotten a new bike, a Vulcan 800 Classic, and the idea of writing crossed my mind again. At the time, I read several magazines and one of them was Roadbike. The tech editor at the time was Mark Zimmerman. I decided to email him and ask him out to lunch. To my total bewilderment, he accepted, and not only that, he took me out to lunch and although I had to ride up to Danbury, it was worth the trip. Mark is an incredibly funny, articulate and knowledgeable person. He's also gracious and open. I asked him if he could read some of the stuff I had written at NYU and give me his opinion. Like others before, he said I could write, but I need to work at more and develop my voice. Once again, life intervened and I ended up taking a job in Iowa, which move our family 1200 miles away. Over the years I have kept in touch with Mark although we haven't talked shop as it were.
Now, some years later I find myself at a point in life where I feel I need change. May be change isn't the right word, may be truth is the right word. I am tired of IT and even though I can do it, I feel no affinity for it, not anymore. It's like being able to do an autonomic bodily function. At that point, it becomes just that, if you know what I mean. So at the advanced age of 49, I have examined my options. Underlying this though is what I call "the four legs of the stool", and I am not talking autonomic bodily functions either. Consider it like a bar stool. One is engagement. I have to be engaged mentally, emotionally, may be spiritually and sometimes physically. I have to use my faculties to their fullest extent, if possible. Two is voice. Do I have a voice not only in what I will do or how I will do it, but just the act of being able to be heard, to have my opinion valued? Three is the social aspects. If I am with a group, how do I fit in, do I have a place where I am comfortable and am I accepted? Four is, "do I make a difference?" Is what I am doing shedding any new light, offering some value, making a difference in someone's day, in a more meaningful way than just "I fixed X". Honestly, right now I am 0 for 4. My options are to do nothing, to look for something in my current field and "settle" for a leg or two, or to change careers. Problem is, I don't know dick. I don't know Dick either. I'd like to as he seems like a good chap (someone I met on Linked In who gave me some advice), but where do I start (besides from the beginning)?
Hope is a funny thing. Not funny ha ha, but funny interesting. For me it has ebbed and flowed with the days and weeks like the tide that comes in and out of Monterrey Bay, which is down the block from where I am writing this now. If anyone has pointers, advice, words of encouragement or even deridement at this point, all will be welcome. Like Sisyphus, I need a rock to push against, but unlike Sisyphus, I need to push it over the hill.
Thank you for reading this blog.
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