Gearhead

I know that as a parent I still have a number of thundering reckonings ahead of me. Not the least of these will be when my son learns how to drive. Given the time and fascination that he lavishes on all things automotive in the years before he becomes "legal," I can only assume that he will be even more auto-inclined in his late teens. For a guy who rarely opens the hood of his own car unless he's giving someone else's battery a jump. I wonder how I will respond.
It's not like I'm automotively illiterate. It's just that my understanding is outstripped by my lack of technical abilities. I can explain the operation of an internal combustion engine more easily than I can change my own oil. This wasn't always the case. When I drove my Vega, I learned to change spark plugs, air filters and check all manner of fluid levels and pressures on a regular basis. This was out of necessity. If I didn't take an active role in the maintenance of my car, it might not have lasted as long as it did. That, coupled with the ridiculous things I forced that car to do, kept me intimately involved with the workings of my main mode of transportation.
The same could be said for the Volkswagen that replaced it. Like many Beetle owners, I jury-rigged my own accelerator cable when the original snapped. If only I had been clever enough to understand that "air cooled engine" didn't mean that you just needed to keep driving when your car starts to overheat. You have to add oil.
I tend to avoid driving these days. My wife has looks over the care and feeding of our family vehicle. My son is profoundly interested in seeing us get the best possible mileage for the best possible performance, as reported in the latest issue of "Road and Track" and "Car and Driver." Over the next few weeks, my son and I will be undertaking a new project: We will be constructing a see-through model of a V-8 engine. I'm looking forward to a unique learning experience. Maybe he can explain the difference between "car and driver" and "road and track."