"Stick Shift Kitchen Aid" or who says cars don't have consciousness

Sunburn had been to college, a graduate of Sorry State. Less worse for the wear with dirty oil, broken headlight, worn belts, and a little hungover.

He was born in 1995 in a VW assembly plant in Mexico, of German parents, and designed by G-d himself (Dr. Ferdinand Porsche). Hence the name Sunburn from a shoddy Mexican silver paint job.

Sunburn was researched by an Apple Computer engineer and was a cross between a runt Mercedes station wagon and a 300SL gullwing coupe.

Sunburn is a sleeper. An engine you could eat off of and faster than anything off the line in Vallejo, California. All souped-up engine power goes through a 5-speed Kenmore washing machine transmission and ugly as hell. Only a 0-60 mph in 4 seconds Lamborghini has beat us in the 1st block of street racing.

Sunburn is a VW Golf III 40th anniversary special edition, given to me by my daughter as a keepsake. I got him when he had 80,000 miles on him. Since, we have traveled 200,000 miles together.

It was 5:30 PM on a Shabbos afternoon and ol' Dad was tired of "working on Maggie's farm" (a honey-do list longer than Sunburn's owner manual). I had to find a low-stress project with a high-yield satisfaction other than my NASCAR pit crew job. Sitting in my garden getting drunk with the slugs and snails off 4 beers, I remembered that incredibly fast mood enhancer of my teenage years.

Getting Dad's T-bird ready for a hot Saturday night Gator girl date in Gatorland, I was a suave "B" teamer with bitches, painting Gainesville orange when we won.

Washing Sunburn is a private time with my beloved VW. Going over every part of the machine that I had fixed or restored at one time or another, every fade mark on the Mexican paint, I enjoyed stepping back, admiring a wet, shiny, clean ride. My hands went over the contour of the body like feeling up my date's tits. I carry on absorbing conversations with my old friend, much the same way some dog lovers talk to their dogs.

When I hand-wash Sunburn with a sponge, bucket, and soap and hose, I remember every trip we took to upstate California for the past 10 years. With soaked speakers and a vacuum cleaner on the end of a marlin line, I get my satisfaction of completing a project and a job well done.

Nevertheless, my VW Kenmore makes my brain smile with its 32 mpg, Grundig sound system, and a heart like an Indian pony. I noticed a change of attitude towards an old friend that gave me so much pleasure.

Sunburn is registered in the green zone and will never have to be smogged again. He will be buried on the high desert. "From iron ore to iron ore and scrap metal to scrap metal."

They say you can never go back to your youth, but as a grown man, I still collect toy cars and play with Sunburn.

Kauai's South Shore

Last of my Kauai blogs--August 9, 2011. We traveled near the airport in Lihue since this was our last day of sight seeing. We started at Lydgate Park just behind our hotel, with its historical heiaus and a nice walk down the path above the beaches and the man-made snorkeling bay, where kids supposedly learn to snorkel. The better snorkeling spot, however, is Poipu Beach Park, especially for a novice like me with a leaking snorkel mask. The water is calm and the fish are plenty, and flavored shaved ice and taro chips are in the market across the street. Following Poipu and Lawa'i roads from east to west, we started at shipwreck rock. A hike to the top of the rock gave us spectacular views of the crashing sea below. Stunt doubles have dived off this rock in probably more than one movie, but if any of us did it, curtains. It's a long way down and a nice long trail along the top of the bluffs where sea fishermen cast a very, very long line. West of Poipu Beach Park is Prince Kuhio beach, another small snorkeling beach. Prince Kuhio, the last reigning prince in Hawaii, was thought to be responsible for bringing Hawaii to statehood with the United States congress. Continuing west, we visited the spouting horn--a large jetty of rocks with holes that cause waves to shoot water up like a geyser. With each eruption, the legendary mo'o (a lizard) trapped beneath the rocks hisses at the people above.
We left the area the way we came in, through the beautiful Eucalyptus tree tunnel on Maluhia Road between old Koloa town and the main Kaumualii highway. Heading back towards Lihue, we visited the thousand-year-old fish pond. In ancient days they diverted the river to capture fish, but now it serves threatened and endangered birds in one of Kauai's wildlife refuges. Our final adventure was searching for the Point Anini lighthouse in Lihue, but it stands abandoned in disrepair. The light that replaced it can now only be seen from the Hyatt Regency golf course. It's a good thing the State of Hawaii requires private resorts to allow public access to their sites. If it was all private, we would not be able to enjoy the beaches, cliffs, and spectacular views along Kauai's shorelines.