For years I’ve driven my kids, but at some point they become the driver. The transition is a little jarring. You remind yourself constantly that you’ve prepped them the best you can. But at some point you have to let them take the wheel and become the passenger. Then with a little more time they drive themselves and find their own path. Every path they take will make you wince and contort from years of guiding them safely down the road of life. You want to step in every time there’s a road block or bad weather in their life. As parents I feel like the goal is to show them the road to be on, not the destination, and we can’t show them the directions to it. We must know that they know that roads location when they are ready. Life is full of trials and experiences from fun to down right horrible, but with enough help early on traveling the right road can be easier to find. My oldest is hitting eighteen today I hope with all my heart that path finds him, and he finds the courage to be the amazing man he’s becoming and use his compass we’ve taught him to use. I know I can’t force him to our road it took us years to find it ourselves. Each path is personal, different, and an exceptional gift just like he is. So instead of getting scared I’m going focus on the wonder of what road he will travel on. May your adventure be fulfilling and know we love you with all our heart. Happy eighteenth birthday Hunter, and thank you for being so incredible. You truly have made our path a sweeter more amazing one. No matter what you find on your way broke, rich, kids early, kids late, or no kids we are so proud of you.
Love is a funny word, its definition is completely personal. Love can describe a new passion, and love can define a relationship that’s stood the test of time. My understanding of this phenomenon has changed through the years. It seems the more you give the more you deepen this meaning to yourself. When you find something or someone to dive into head first. That says a hell of a lot more about you than it does partner or project your connected too. When you let your guard down, open all your windows, and give without worrying about a return that’s the point you’ve hit love. It could take years to teach yourself to open up to people or passions, but its fucking worth it. Failure or heartbreak don’t matter, you are a human being with a limited life span. Understand people will hurt you, projects will suffer but those are all wins. You learn through failure not success, if you want to live don’t be afraid to hurt or look stupid. Open that heart up bring the world the gift of you! Don’t take the quiet easy path follow that passionate voice in the back of your head. Be fearless be honest with your self. If your open, honest you are going to find that person who feels the same for you or let that creative passion set roots in your life. I found the key to my fearless love from my partner. When you’ve closed off your heart to everyone but your kids you start to shrink inside. When I say she saved me I mean she truly did, and her open heart sowed seeds in mine at first kiss. Love takes patience, hard work, and risk. My definition expands every day we choose us. See love is also choice, choice to love each other everyday. I can honestly say I love her more everyday because everyday I learn how to love a little more. I have a passion for life now that I try to share with my kids, my hobbies, and most of all my favorite human. I cherish every moment because its not always beautiful but god damn this is my life, and I find every way I can to appreciate the majestic nature of the wins and the losses. -Noah
I’m a day dreamer. My head is always in the clouds. I have a million ideas but turning them into action is different. I’ve finally crossed from dreaming to doing! While I am not drowning in the hard work just yet, I am definitely starting to feel the reality sink in. There are some goals I cannot turn away from. It’s a wonderfully bitter feeling. When you get traction on a thought and it starts to move through your actions. I love the feeling its becoming addictive.
A month ago, I decided I was going to be all in on a blog, on an Instagram, and YouTube. After years of watching content I wanted to create. I selected work times, talked with my better half, sharing my goal. It was more than fun, it’s a side job that I don’t expect to get paid doing, and I don’t care. I want to feel the hardship, and I want to make every mistake because that’s learning. I want to build my skills and create content that’s entertaining. I want to deliver the goods every time. I’m not here to make money. I am here to get better at sharing my passion and love for cars. I love filming cars, I love talking cars, I love reading about cars. It’s why my wife has a love hate relationship with cars. I want content that let’s people see cars the way I do. The curves, the colors, and the emotion.
I’m just starting this adventure, but soon you’ll see videos get better, the blog will smooth out, and my ability to communicate what the beauty I see in it all. I’m excited. I am grateful for every post you read, but 16 days in and I am getting a small taste of the hard work that goes into what others do so naturally. Passion is why I am here writing this, and I am dedicated to put the next two solid years into this adventure and build skills. Right now, as you watch our videos, each one still has a learning curve. Cringe and laugh at the transition to entertainment. Thank You for coming by and checking us out. It’s just the beginning.
My daughter Lola rebuilding Horton the Fury’s Holley carb. Random but we all have skills we are building, and its not always easy. Top picture is both our girls washing the swordfish.
Hi! I am Cori – Noah’s partner. We thought it might be fun to switch things up and share what it’s like loving a car guy! It’s fair to say, when Noah and I met, I didn’t know ANYTHING about cars. More than that, I didn’t want to know anything about cars. I mean, I drove them, they got me where I needed to go, but it wasn’t for pleasure. Little did I know then, how much I would come to both love and hate cars.
I knew Noah and I spoke different car languages when we met for the first time. Noah and I met online through a dating website for single parents. We both were trying to manage single parenthood as full time custodial parents, work, and find time to grow our relationship. We finally decided to meet in person for a lunch date, but I needed to meet at his apartment during nap time, because he didn’t have child care. I am terrible with direction, actually it’s worse than terrible. Noah needed to give me good directions because he lived in a large complex. He told me I would know I was in the right place because I would see a cool muscle car in front of his dwelling. What do you think of when you think muscle car? Well, my little knowledge instantly thought of the usual suspects. Camaro, Chargers, or Mustangs…what I saw eventually was a baby blue four door HUGE car with some dings and dents. Not a muscle car, not even close. I almost ran. I wasn’t dating him because he had a muscle car, but this was the first clue that we didn’t see eye to eye and I was worried if that was his idea of a “muscle car”, where else might see things so differently.
A few weeks in, we were able to go on a midnight drive in this muscle car. There was something magical. It sounded amazing, it had a beautiful bench seat, and the original stereo. We turned the radio on, and started singing with the windows down, and got lost in the moment. So lost that Noah actually drove home on the wrong side of the road for a brief second… because we were totally captivated in this moment. After that, every time we stopped for fuel we’d get so many compliments. It’s when I learned that loving cars is more about the passion and sound and comradery than it is about the car. Because of that I learned to love cars, because I loved this person who loved cars with such a passion that he can’t not talk cars. It isn’t in his DNA. We actually still have this car. This car is weaved through our life and it tells our story. Noah sold it, so he could afford to buy me an engagement ring. A few years later, we found the owners – and I bought it back for Valentine’s Day. Noah’s written about Horton before; if you want to learn more about our muscle car check out this blog.
Since then, we’ve owned what feels like a million cars. We’ve had a mini van, Land Rover, Buick, Mercury, Audi TT, Quattro, A6. We’ve had a Mitsubishi Eclipse that we changed the timing belt together…that was not easy, an old Ford truck that couldn’t hold fuel..(We don’t talk about that one!). Now I drive a BMW X1 i28 and I’m sure you’ve seen Noah’s car. Finally, I understand. The cars we drive are an extension of who we are. Some cars are refined and dignified. Some are loud and go balls out. Some are stealthy and strong. I thought, I was going to be writing a blog about loving a car guy, but instead I wrote about a car guy teaching me to love cars. -Cori
With only off time, and a whole lotta basic camera work we are learning our YouTube is going to take some time to grow and build. But that is why we are doing it. We love cars, we love time hanging out and sharing our passions. Our goal is to eventually make videos we would want to watch daily. Every video we make, we grow, and I hope in a year we can look back and see the progression. As a team we are in it to win it. So come by, and watch us learn on Tarmecca every Wednesday. -Noah
Icons are defined every generation. To create a definition worth having takes hard work, and sometimes risk. You don’t gain Icon status overnight, and you don’t gain icon status from staying safely in others shadow. This applies to car companies too; brand loyalty, bragging rights, and being true to the principles created can build sales figures.
Some companies have exhausted their loyalties, or live off of days gone by, a car created in another time by another group of engineers. Some companies build it, understand it, and keep it at all costs. I’m not going to name, names we all know, both winners and losers. There is no place in business, for old fashioned business mentality when your selling dreams, and image. Passion should drive business owners, not stock prices. Passion leads to direction, direction leads to goals, and goals lead to delivering on a product. Many have found ways to cut costs to get those quick gains. Costs cuts are not bad themselves but leaning on them to provide you a boost in revenue is a short term win long term loss. There are plenty of tools used by old mentality business without passion used time and time again. Companies, dependent on these practices find it hard in the future to survive.
Back to the point though, if you want to build an icon, that work, that investment, is in every generation. You need new clients and brand loyalty to win the long game. (Pictures here do not reflect the modern debate on this subject, just an older example of falling on old icons to make sales while cutting costs drastically.) K cars might have saved Chrysler in the short term but it took some wild ideas in the early 90s to rebuild their name and created a new icon in the process.
On its own not a horrible car. using an icons nameplate to sell it actually makes it worse.
If my first car represented freedom and my second represented exploring and being silly, then my third car represented my transition to adulthood and that I had a choice. I no longer was just excited to drive and being cool wasn’t all that.
The Plymouth Satellite was a real reflection of my taste and awareness. This was the real deal. This is the car that stayed with me for a lot of transitions and ushered in my early adulthood. I will never forget the day I first saw it. I was driving to high school, still fighting early morning grogginess, bumping along in my moms Jetta (remember I had sold my Duster to a nice father, and son team) when out of nowhere this Sunfire gold metallic 1972 Plymouth Satellite coupe rolls on to a front lawn- with a for sale sign in window! I slammed on my brakes pulled over and got out. This was my car from the moment I saw it; I knew.
I chatted with the owner, an older man, and our conversation turned to surprise when I got in it. Green vinyl seats and a manual! A three on the tree, with a slant six. Holy moly I was in love! The car was in perfect condition. I raced away heading to school with only that car on my mind. I didn’t have the money, but in desperate fashion I knew with some prodding I could make this my graduation present. Such a horrible way to see things but honestly, I wanted that car bad! The man I was buying it from had bought it for his son. His son hated it and wanted a Porsche and to my luck that was the moment he was angrily rolling it onto his front lawn to sell.
My family was supportive, and I bought it for cool $1000 dollars. I would treat this car differently. I washed it, I waxed it, and I changed the oil every couple thousand miles. I babied this car, and I was so proud to own it. It was sleek and sophisticated it looked like a fast car, it wasn’t but it could drive anywhere. It was a poor man’s optioned car. Three on the tree, rubber floor, no carpet, and a 36-gallon gas tank. It was so aero dynamic I could drive road trips at 30 plus miles per gallon. Because it looked so good, I made sure not to push it too hard.
This in my life was the car that got away. No matter how amazing a car is; there comes a day when the daily grind takes over. Being a three on the tree became part of its downfall. After owning it for a decent amount of time the linkage started to get stuck. It wasn’t classic enough to find parts, and even taking it to the local mechanics shop they couldn’t bend the linkage back into place right. So, I got used to having to climb under the car to adjust which gear I’d use most before taking off. This got old but I loved that car, so I got used to it.
The death blow came on an early morning. When I would wake up,I used to always check my car through the window. I looked outside and did a double take. It looked like the driver’s door was smashed in! I threw on my jeans and ran downstairs to get a closer peak. I wondered if I did something and not realized it the night before? I checked out the car. I was up close and it was bad…….. super bad. You could see the door frame from outside the car. When I walked back in all disheveled my stepdad caught me up on what had transpired during my slumber. My mom was late for work. Her back window wasn’t defrosted, but she started to back out of the driveway. She slowly bumped my car, thinking it was just the trash can she proceeded to push it out of the way with her car. Except- the trash can didn’t move to her horror.
My mom was so horrified she hit my car that she didn’t come home for a while after work. I couldn’t be mad. They were fair parents and offered to get it fixed but it was the death toll of my ownership. I made a deal with my boss at the time to buy his sweet 1977 billet grill Chevy truck for what ever was left after trading in my car at a dealership for the newer truck he wanted. I told him, if they tried to low ball him, I’d just pay cash. The trade was done, and they low balled, I raced to the dealership to buy my car back, but the dealership had a friend that saw it and bought it right away. Super naive of me to think that was a good idea. I got my truck and moved on but, I’ve always been sad about getting rid of it.
Years later I found that satellite again. I searched for it for years. I memorized the vin and knew my plate numbers by heart. I was on craigslist and started seeing parts that were from my satellite specifically. MY dented door and a green bench with a certain rip in it. I contacted the guy. I found out he had made a clone road runner out of it. Not the honest kind, he was selling it as a 1971 Roadrunner a real one, which made me a little angry. Also, it is pretty stupid cause the marker lights are flush with the body on a 71 and this was a 72 so not so flush. He wanted $38,000 for it. What a rip off!
So that’s where my car ended up. It was a great car and if I had the repair skills I have today I would have kept it. Another part of the learning process.
Jumping, speeding, and general fun; the Duster became my second car for all this craziness. It wasn’t exceptionally fast, but it could handle a good beating to make up for its inability to handle cornering. With a bullet proof slant six like my first car and the added benefit of being a sleeker two door, I really felt cool in it. It’s the first car I painted, installed a cd player and sub in, installed new carpet, touched up interior, and put on air shocks that would raise the back end (Monroe shocks). It had to be terrible to watch me pass by; racked with skinny tires, music blaring, and cut off mufflers with the drone sound from the oversized six cylinder.
It was so much fun, and I learned a ton from it. It’s like an awakening…… an awkward awakening. Plus, it ignited a Plymouth Mopar passion I would keep from then on. One exceptional memory of the Duster was jumping it over the tracks leaving an intersection. There was this set of tracks and even at slow speeds you could feel the car lift. I couldn’t resist the urge to see my more redneck side come out. During that summer, driving on my own, I flew through that intersection on a green light (I wasn’t totally devoid of reason!) I peddled the duster up to a solid sixty. Holy crap I flew, and it must have been a spectacle to the drivers waiting to go on the opposite side because mid-flight I could see the roofs of opposing traffic. When I landed my frame bounced off the ground and sparks started to fly from behind me. I limped the car to an industrial parking lot and found my entire exhaust system dragging under my car. Luckily, I had already cut into the exhaust, downpipe from the header to hear if it sounded better. I went behind the car, grabbed the muffler and twisted it around and around until the metal gave out. I opened my trunk, put down my California rear seats, and loaded up my exhaust system. After that I just ran a header and nothing else.
Man, that poor car; I was a horrible car dad at the time. Just excited to slide beat on it and feel cool. I did eventually sell it to a father and son who planned to build it to a hot rod project. So, in a way I saved it from rotting next to a barn, sitting so long you’d have to cut the grass around it to get it out. That’s how I got it!
It’s probably garaged somewhere right now.
What do you do when you run out of hair product camping. Become one with the woods.
I remember the frantic need to work, so I could save and be ready to buy my first car. I was so excited to be the owner and operator of my freedom. Playing music, exploring, and going everywhere. However, when the time came to purchase my car I might not have been a savvy shopper. Perhaps I was too excited! I bought my first car from a customer. I checked it out at night and had to pay the poor guy a fifty to get his title loan paid off so I could even buy it. Ignoring all the telltale signs that I was getting a bad deal, I actually think I got lucky. What a great crappy first car with tons of character. This was the best deal EVER! I spent $400 dollars for a 1976 Dodge Dart Custom; copper in color, slant six, and gaping holes in the floorboards from the rust. Having a great running beater was perfect for hanging with friends. The first day driving it to school I was ready to show off my road privileges to my buddies, and anyone that wanted a ride home after school. Three people follow me out to the parking lot and hilarity ensues, as I open my door, I hear a crashing sound, and see a horrified future passenger with a rear passenger door in their hand sitting against the ground. The look everyone gave me was priceless like wanting to laugh mixed with fear. It was comedically perfect timing. I walked around the car grabbed the door rolled the window down before I set it back in place and locked it. Can you believe that it stayed in place!? The rest of the time I owned it no one opened that door again. This was the car you drove when being cool didn’t matter. I was just glad to be free. It was the utility vehicle of my adolescence memory machine, and it served me well until my heart was set on something cooler (not really cooler – but I thought it was) a 1975 Plymouth Duster on the side of a barn. When Innocent fun started turning into the need to look badass as well.
By this time I had to use parts off of my Dart to make the Duster run.
I was glued to a game called Street Rod I when I was younger. For a kid who loved cars it was all consuming. We had a computer in my stepsister’s room/office (she visited every other weekend). It was a game with a simple concept. Your goal was too beat the king by the end of summer, but the game had so many neat features, it was playable again and again. Here are my top eight favorite things about this car game as a kid.
First, you could buy cars from newspaper ads. Second, they came in varying degrees of ware. Third, you could strip parts off to make your car faster for free. Fourth, you worked on your car and took care of it. Five, every pink slip race was a chance too loose it all; or you could just race for $50 bucks, but it would add wear and tear to your car. Six you could get pulled over driving in the game. Seven, you could swap motors and strip down cars. Eight, the automatic was a safe bet, but a manual was always faster. Randomly you’d drop that clutch and the transmission would go or the engine would blow.
Seriously what an amazing game and there hasn’t been anything quite like it since. Garage simulator is kind of close but still missing a reason to build and swap cars like Street Rod. It was that game got me hooked on gaming in general. I played that game through fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh grades. Freshman year started and I got my hands on my first-ever game purchase. I paid ten dollars. Road and Track’s Need for Speed, while it only had a few cars, the developers took the time to add interior views and sounds. What the cars had in real life, they had in the game. Take for example cars with antilock braking in real life it meant they had antilock braking in the game. If not, they didn’t add it. The attention to detail was incredible and the car information section was spot on! I’d listen to it for hours cause I’m weird like that, the sounds of the engine are comforting to me.
Later in my freshman year the biggest and craziest car game hit. Gran Turismo and it blew everything else away. Ok; there were no interior views, but it was ok because it had real tracks. It also had 250 plus cars, attention to detail, and auto tuning. Racing with your friends on the split screen, watching the in-game replay, and capturing our track times. Out of all games I’ve ever played this one is the one I spent the most time on. I got to a point where if you told me which track we were on, I could drive a manual with my eyes covered and one hand on the controller (sadly true). I probably spent way too much time on that game, but what fun to be had. We all have spent time wasting away, goofing off with our friends before we join the workforce and that game was my last hurrah. All these games were gems; made by dedicated people, and I want to say thank you to all of them. There have been some sweet games made since then, but these games represent my first feels into the joy and love I have for playing car games.
Street Rod had some rough moments.
Sadly I never see this model of Viper in any new games.
Always started Gran Turismo with the cheapest used Supra I could find.
TARMECCA 