Father's Day: Bittersweet

Father's Day is bittersweet. Sweet, because I have my two fine sons, making their way in the world in such different but interesting ways. One is a father himself! Bitter, because, once again, I can't be or speak with my dad. He died this week in 2002.

June was always "Dad Month" anyway because besides Father's Day, his birthday was June 1. So, I was assured of at least two good, long phone calls and got to shop for two corny cards. June is still "Dad Month," but now it includes both ends of his 75-year-long life in it.

What I carry with me of my father is most obvious in my interest in cars, and I get my weekly dose of new ones. I still send my step-mom the printed stories. More subtle but equally important is my set of values and priorities, which starts with honesty and moves on to helping people who need it and contributing something positive to the world. It means becoming an expert in something and sharing it with others. In his later years, my father was a professor in his field--dentistry--and left behind valuable research--and a generation of graduates who likely are still in their own dental practices or contributing to the education of the future generation of practitioners.

Today's photos are of a car my father owned several of--an Austin-Healey--and one of a 2011 Mazda MX-5 Miata--a similar vehicle that I love. I assume my affection for small, imported droptops comes from him and the good times we had driving in those cars.

Last night, I enjoyed spending time with both of my sons--in the same room at the same time--so I'm happy, but I sure miss those phone calls.

Mazda MX-5 Miata Rocks

People often ask me, as an automotive writer, what my favorite car is. Of course, that's a silly question, since after nearly 1,000, it's hard to pick out a single favorite. However, there is one car that I've enjoyed six times (I believe) since June of 1992, when I drove my first one. It's the Mazda MX-5 Miata, a two-seat roadster.

Mazda has built and sold more than 900,000 of them since introducing it in 1989. Now in its third generation, the MX-5 Miata continues to provide that quick top-down, part-of-you experience that makes it by far the most popular sports car ever made.

I love these cars because they remind me of trips in my father's small Austin-Healey roadsters as a kid. On a summer afternoon, we'd jump into the little bucket seats in the back (kid-size only) and the four of us would motor off to the ice cream place. These were the happiest moments of my childhood--part of what led me to write about cars in the first place.

The Miata is simple--and was especially so when it arrived. You unlatch the top and just push it back behind you--it takes two seconds. The small four-cylinder engine and manual transmission are as simple as the Austin-Healey Sprite of yore--but have today's technology. The electrical system works great--no Prince of Darkness Lucas wiring harness to bedevil you.

I am now testing the 2011 Miata with the recently-introduced electric folding hard top. I thought it might be a drag because it would be slow, or heavy, or somehow not "authentic," but let me tell you--it's heaven. You unlatch a single center clip and push a button. About eight seconds later, you hear a beep and you're done. The metal cover lifts to accept the top, which folds neatly into the space behind the seats, and you still have all your trunk space available. You can perform this trick at a traffic light with little worry of being stuck in the middle of the procedure.

I'm getting about 27 miles per gallon now, but, amazingly, the back of the fuel filler door suggests premium fuel! Still worth it--and that's what I have fed my borrowed Dolphin Gray Mica tester.

Well--gotta run. There's daylight left and I'm off for another drive. Yeah, I guess it's my favorite.

My Dad Would Be 84 Today

My father was born 84 years ago to a modest-income family in Buffalo, New York. He grew up with his father away much of the time, during the depression. H was taller than everyone else in his family. He was a "nerd," being interested in technology, science and books--but didn't wear glasses. Then, he lost both parents as a teenager, to different illnesses. Not a great start in life.

My father served briefly in World War II at age 17, but a friend accidentally shot him through the middle (luckily, missing everything), so home he came. The 6-foot-3 overweight kid came home a slim, handsome 6-5 man, and things started to move. Dad went to college on the GI Bill and then through dental school. This began a career that included private practice, teaching at the University of Alabama at Birmingham and later the University of Southern California, and finally, a series of lectures. The University of Buffalo, his alma mater, has an annual award in his name. That, by any measure, is professional success.

As an increasingly successful professional in his 20's and early 30's, Dad got interested in British sports cars, and ended up owning and racing a number of them, including three Austin Healeys and a rare (and tiny) Berkeley. The latter was recently restored in the Midwest and is pictured above. Dad's love of cars was passed on to me, but I'm a writer, not a racer or a wrencher.

My parents' marriage was not successful for either of my parents, but they both made good connections later that lasted many years.

My father died suddenly the day before he was to have surgery to repair an abdominal aortic aneurism--a life threatening condition. I think he knew the risks going in. He and I had great, long phone chats on his birthday (June 1) and Father's Day (mid-June). In my adult years, we became close in spirit, if not in distance.

I'm sorry he's missing out on his great granddaughter and seeing his grandkids become adults. I'm used to him not being nearby, but I'm still unhappy he's not around. He knew how to fix anything, had a lot of interesting things to say, really cared about me--and celebrated my successes. I sent him every auto story I wrote during his lifetime (hundreds) and a number of books in my car library are signed gifts from him.

His car, in my mind, will always be an Austin-Healey. Someday, I may even get to drive one.

From Dad I learned to be honest, to work hard, that focusing your attention leads to great results, that it's important to spend some of your time doing what you love and much more. I wish he was still on the other end of the line.