For as long as I can remember, my dad has always had a fixer upper in the garage. He has always had an affinity for vintage European cars and motorcycles. When he retired from his corporate job, he and my mom moved to the country and he started to fix up these beautiful old treasures full time.
The appreciation for things long passed must be in our blood. I also share the love of fine things fast, but my appreciation leans more towards motorcycles. My teenage son got the vintage American car gene; he loves old Mustangs and Chevys.
Any teenage boy could only hope of a summer spent fixing up the car of his dreams with his grandfather. Long hours spent learning, talking, hanging out with just the boys, listening to the radio. It’s an iconic pastime, one that we don’t get to participate much in these days.
So, when my son asked if he could spend some time at my parents’ house this summer fixing up a car, my husband and I said absolutely.
My son has a fantasy in his head that this summers’ adventure will be epic. He believes that he will be driving a cool car in the fall and that nothing can stand in his way.
What he doesn’t understand, like most teenagers, is hard, grueling physical work. My two teenagers have never really put in work hours anywhere. Sure, they have chores, but nothing like restoring an old car. He has no idea what he is in for.
And you know what? That’s the best part of this whole experiment. Both my dad and I know what it all entails. Grease, grime, paint fumes, and sweat. It’s not romantic, and not very pretty. It’s the end product that makes it all worth it.
But to get there, my son will have to huff and puff a little bit. There will be no cell phones, no gaming. Just him and my dad for days on end, working. It will be interesting to see how long he lasts. In fact, my mom and I have a bet going. Will it be a week, two weeks? Only time will tell.
Whatever happens up there this summer will be cool, no matter what. My teen son will work on their property fixing fences and work on the car in the afternoons. There will be no time for laziness. No time for watching videos on his phone, no wasted hours on YouTube.
These are priceless life lessons. Teenagers these days don’t get much of those. Will he come home happier? More rested, more mature? I hope so.
But I hope he also comes homes with lasting memories of his grandparents, two people who think the world of him and who want to impress upon him the importance and wisdom of long forgotten generational qualities and a glimpse of life before technology.
So here is to my son, aka Danny Zuko. Keep dreaming, boy. Dust off that old leather jacket and worn out Converse. Roll with the punches and get dirty. Go Greased Lightning. Make Mamma proud.
Elizabeth Knobel lives in Windsor and is the mother of two teens who give her inspiration everyday. She can reached at
el*********@ms*.com
