I Had Fun, Fun, Fun 'Til My Daddy Took the Pontiac Away

Here on the East Side - just as in countless communities across the U.S. - turning 16 involved multiple rites of passage. Back in the 1970s when I was in high school, it seemed to be the accepted age for girls to start dating. I skipped ahead a bit at 15, since my potential suitor was inviting me for a Johnson Governors hockey game and my parents were diehard Johnson fans. Plus they agreed on the condition we double date with them. Ah, an embarrassing story for another time.

But 16 marked a major milestone - you were now old enough to GET YOUR DRIVER'S LICENSE! I had started taking the requisite classroom instruction and then got behind the wheel for the first time when my dad took me out to the 3M parking lot in Maplewood following a major snowstorm. First thing he did was to get it stuck in a snow drift, and then he got out and said, "Get it out." I of course was clueless. He told me some night on a dark road I was going to get stuck and would need to get it out myself without any help. Coached me through rocking it back and forth and eventually I got it free. Of course this was before the days of cell phones, and looking back I am very thankful he taught me how. It happened more than once.

Then after driving around the 3M complex, he had the bright idea I was ready for real traffic, so we headed out down University Avenue - at 5:00 p.m. By the time I had my first on-the-road instruction, I had pretty much mastered just about every traffic situation you might imagine. My dad was very thorough.

Oh, and he also had me jack the car up and rotate all the tires and change the oil before he ever let me take it out on my own. Did I say it was a 9-passenger Pontiac station wagon?

And then the day came when I was allowed to take the car by myself without any supervision. I had passed my driver test - first time; nearly failed at the parallel park situation but squeaked by. My mom didn't drive, so playing chauffeur for her when my dad was out of town was the price I paid for being allowed to borrow the family car occasionally.

I discovered quickly that I loved to drive - fast. Those county highways and back roads were tempting, and I recall on one newly-constructed section of highway out in Washington County where I pushed that station wagon to its limits. I have no idea how fast it went; I just remember the needle passing the numbers on the speedometer. It couldn't have been very fast; I doubt it registered over 75, but for me it was a thrill. I quickly developed a reputation for a lead foot. No, I wasn't quite as bad as the teenage T-bird driver in the Beach Boys' song, "Fun, Fun, Fun," but close.

And then came the day that almost put an end to my vehicle adventures. I hadn't had my license very long, and I decided to cruise over to the McDonald's on Prosperity & Maryland where I worked. It was my day off, but lots of my friends worked or hung out there, and it was a good place to meet up and see what was going on. Pulled into the parking lot, found a good space near the front, and eased into a spot. The bumper tapped the concrete stop and I figured I should back up. I dropped it into reverse (I thought), and probably gave it bit too much gas, because the next thing I knew, all four wheels were off the ground and the car was balancing on that hunk of concrete.

In broad daylight. In view of my friends and co-workers and half the football team. After they quit laughing, the guys gathered around and lifted it off and back onto the asphalt. No visible damage, except a very obvious gouge under the car perilously close to the oil pan. The worst thing of all, other than knowing I was going to have to face all these kids day after day at school, was I had to come back in a couple of hours to work supper rush. "A.J. Foyt," they called me, for the longest time.

I don't know if my dad ever found out, but I had my suspicions. Not long after that my dad announced that I would only be allowed to take the car if I were running errands for my mom or driving her somewhere. My mom worked at the school as the math and science department secretary, so it's highly likely she heard the rumors that put an end to my free-wheeling with the family car.

Oh well, it was FUN FUN FUN while it lasted.