The turn of the 1970s was a time of transition. It was clear that Richard Nixon wasn't going anywhere. His administration oversaw the first landing on the moon by human beings, but the escalating war in Vietnam dogged his leadership. In 1968, many thought Nixon was the peace candidate for President. He would end up sending more USA troops into Southeast Asia.
It is with historical context, however. It was ten years removed from a war that should have ended all wars. Unfortunately, a spat between Korean partisans turned into an international affair splitting the peninsula in half. The same trouble was brewing in Vietnam, a soon-to-be former French colony. Even those within the Soviet Bloc weren’t buying into the new world order as envisioned by Karl Marx. Hungary was a year away from challenging Moscow on whether it should be their superpower or not.
It is that double-edged sword that entices us to import older Mitsubishi Lancer Evolutions and Nissan Skyline GT-Rs. However, this importation business penalizes us with prices that are higher than market levels. Someone is profiting from our desire to get something we wanted badly some three decades before.
There is always some feature that probably sold you on buying your vehicle in the first place. It is probably a gadget that you loved playing with every time you’re behind the wheel. After 100,000 miles, that gadget would be worn out from you playing with it over time. Or, it could be the only thing still going after 150,000 miles on the clock.
The subject of track days came about during a discussion on advanced driver education programs. There has been a push to create driver education programs for teenagers by teaching them advanced, but necessary skills. Car control is a huge piece of the puzzle, as teenagers need to understand how their vehicle can react when presented with a dangerous situation. It used to be called "defensive driving," but teaching these skills on controlled environments raises this concept to new levels.
On Amigo Avenue, the street where I lived, our corner lot at Gilmore Street offered plenty of curbside parking for any of the cars our family owned and any car I would take home from a rental car lot. As with many days in the Valley, when the sun was setting in the west came this shimmering white light across the mulberry trees that would give any of those vehicles a shimmery gleam to our property. In the early years, Mom’s Oldsmobile Ninety-Eight Luxury sedan would catch that sheen when she arrived home. On most days, that meant things were OK in the world – even when they were not.