I've always loved technology. When I was a kid, I used to take apart stereos, phones, and appliances to fix them or use their parts to build new devices. I started playing with computers and writing my own programs when I was in 5th grade, designing multimedia websites when I was 19, and building computers when I was in my early 20's. Now, my husband and I are the computer and electronics experts in our neighborhood and among all of our relatives. It's fun. I've always believed that I could fix anything if I just put my mind to it, and most of the time I'm right, but there is one piece of technology that has always intimidated me: the automobile.

My dad would work on the car and I would stand right next to him, watching him change the oil and replace carburetor. I loved it, and I wanted to learn it, but it just seemed so tricky. Maybe it was all the grease and dirt that really bothered me. In high school I read books about auto repair, and it all made perfect sense on paper, but the moment I opened the hood, I just stared blankly at the dirt covered tangle of metal, tubes, and wires. My sister's Buick Century gave me my first lesson in engines. We had to start the thing by removing the air filter and shoving a stick into the choke valve to hold it open before turning the key. (Not a very good way to fix a problem, but it worked.) Then there was my grandpa's Dodge Charger (which I drove and received lots of compliments on; I couldn't figure out why so many people complimented me on it since I thought the thing was a old hunka-junk; it wasn't until I told my husband that I used to drive a Charger that I learned it's apparently a cool vehicle, and he was rather annoyed that I got rid of it). Nothing seemed to work on that thing. Not the wipers. Not the gas gauge. It leaked oil like mad and gave off giant plumes of blue smoke. But it taught me how to rig cars for temporary fixes. Then I had a Toyota Corolla. I paid $400 for it, and honestly that was overpriced. It was by far the crappiest car I've ever owned. The head gasket leaked. The thermostat didn't work. The clutch disc was warped. And it overheated all the time. But owning it and having a dad who knew about cars taught me the basics of engines and transmissions.

After that, I bought cars with warranties, and didn't bother with thinking about engines or break pads or anything else other than how safe is it, and what's the fuel efficiency? It had a warranty. Let the service center fix it.

I decided that I didn't care about cars anymore. Gone were the days of being a teenager dreaming about all of the sexy cars I would own when I was older: a big black 4x4 truck (we've got one now), a cute Jeep Wrangler (not impressed with it anymore), a powerful sports car (it's so unpractical). Gone were the days when I drove 90+ mph everywhere, actually cared about 0 to 60 stats, and thought it was more fun than frighting to max out the speedometer on long stretches of desert road. Gone were the days of off-roading with total strangers on anything that could fly over unmaintained dirt trails. I've traded those dreams for fantasies of going on comfortable road trips with kids who don't complained. I'll even admit that I've looked at a Dodge Caravan, yes a mini-van, and shamefully considered buying it (but I got a Volkswagen Passat station wagon instead... phew!). "I don't need a stylish or fancy car," I'd say. "I just need something practical."

And then my husband began watching Top Gear. The comedy amused me. The competitions sucked me in. And before I knew it, I was once again drooling over cars the way I did when I was a teenager. I've recently caught myself looking at nice cars with envy and wondering just how sinful is it to buy something that isn't the safest, most fuel-efficient vehicle on the market, but does look like lots of fun. I've asked questions like, "Could a child's booster seat fit in the backseat of that sports car?" and "The kids are old enough to go off-roading, aren't they? We'll go slowly, of course."

So that got me thinking about my old intimidating tech fear: working on cars. I still want to learn how. It can't be that much harder than working on appliances and computers, can it? So I'm doing it. My dad is gone now, but I'm sure that if there's an afterlife, and if they have the Internet in the after life, he'd be happy to read this, happy to know that the little girl who sat for hours watching him work on cars is finally going to get her hands greasy.

Labels: Cars Computers and Technology, My Life