Did you have a parent who was into cars?

Both parents are guilty. When I was born my dad had a 911 targa and my mom had an alfa spyder. My dad and I have autocrossed, done trackdays and have been very involved in the PCA my entire life.

In reply to Japspec:

My story is similar to yours. My parents know how to drive cars, and that's about it.

I struck out on my own to learn as much as I could (which still isn't much).

My pops has zero automotive interest yet randomly did a cross country (NY to WA) fly-and-drive for an MR-S last year.

Closest after that randomness from my dad is my uncle buying an - auto - C5 as part of his mid-life crisis.

Thank god I fell into the friends I did during college.

Yup - dad was. This was his pride and joy:

38 Chev Master Coupe.
- 283 SBC - originally had 3 Strombergs on an Offy Aluminum intake. He tried to flip it to Hilborn mechanical injection. Never really got that to run right.
- Super T-10 4 spd.
- Setup like a gasser - straight axle front, etc.

I helped dad with all sorts of stuff, tune ups, engine rebuilds (cars, snowmobiles, etc.)

My Dad was into cars early on. Before he had kids, he had an Olds and a '57 Chevy. I remember a stock '50 Chevy pick-up, a CB550 & CB750 (not sure on the CB part) Hondas. He was part owner with a co-worker on a early wooden Chris Craft with, I want to say, Ford V8 in it. Then the '72 Vega wagon he bought new. And at some point (mid 70s) swapped in a 302 small block with side pipes after the 4 banger blew up. That thing was loud. All the neighborhood kids got a kick out of it. We moved a couple of times in the late 70s so he had gotten rid of everything. But by 1980 had bought a sweet bone stock Datsun 510 to commute in. After that he had bought a '72 240z. I wish I could have back all that stuff. I blame him for the fact I like Chevys and Datsun/Nissans. I've owned 2 510s, a '64 and '65 El Caminos, one Hardbody and one four door Frontier. Right now I own one '01 Z28 Camaro and a '12 Nissan Maxima.

my parents were into cars. Much more than the normal person, not as much as a person here probably. Between the 2 of them there have been a few Mustangs, a Supra, a few odd cars, many MANY test drives that resulted in tire smoke instead of a sale, but that's about it. I say WERE into cars because they lost some of their interest with age. Dad is almost 70, was more interested when he was 55. They still have some cool cars, most purchased 15-30 years ago, but the only one they drive with any frequency anymore is a Miata.

Both parents and plenty of other relatives. Dad started with a TD and moved on to XK-120,140 Jags, 356 and a host of others. Mom was into sprites, Morris Minors and Mercedes. And her glassback Barracuda. The arm band he gave to my son when Ed got his comp license.

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Oh, and he's 94 and just bought his 3rd miata. My hero.

My dad and uncle had worked on stock cars and modifieds when I was a kid up until Freeport speedway closed down when I was 9, then we started going to a bunch of races every year. We'd go to a couple Nascar and Indy car races, and on vacations he would look for races where ever we went. Now we usually go to a few short track races and one or two at Lime Rock every year.

My dad liked cars, but didn't hot rod much, or own much that was interesting. He did do most of his own wrenching, and some of his cars would have bolt on mods.

Before having kids he had a string of v8 Torinos, a 68 mustang and a 77 Cobra II.

Once he had kids it was company cars (sedans) until the mid 90s when he bought a fox body.

We would go to shows and test and tune nights at the drag strip but we never participated.

In 2002, I bought the fox body from him, and his interest in cars seems to have gone mostly away.

Forgot one family member...a distant relative who owns a rotary specialty shop in Ontario and races an FD in 6H/12H of Sebring. Only met him once, a few years ago.

jh36 wrote: Both parents and plenty of other relatives. Dad started with a TD and moved on to XK-120,140 Jags, 356 and a host of others. Mom was into sprites, Morris Minors and Mercedes. And her glassback Barracuda. The arm band he gave to my son when Ed got his comp license. Oh, and he's 94 and just bought his 3rd miata. My hero.

This guy gave me my first car as a christmas present at age 14. A broken down Porsche 924 that was towed out of a field. It turned into a track-only NASA GTS race car before I ever got my driver's license.

Dad always has some interesting projects in the barn and has been racing for a long time. At least I know who to blame.

Yes, my dad. He wasn't one to modify or race, but he liked cars and had an interesting assortment of them before I came along and while I was growing up.

My Dad has always been an enthusiast, but not a wrench. He had an MGA, an XK150, then a string of VW's (Mk1 Scirocco, MK2 GTI / GLI) He then turned to Toyota Supras (83, 85, 90 Turbo), and finally bought the E36 M3 that I now own in 1997. He just sold his MINI Cooper S, as the seats starting bugging his back. He drives a brand new Mazda 6 these days-- a manual. (he'll be 73 in August)

My Dad's Mom was also a "car girl" and had a 72 Cutlass Convertible for years. She lived the last few years of her life going on long (1000 mile) tours with an antique car club. Her "boyfriend" at the time had a 1911 Locomobile, and they'd drive that thing all over. She actually died in a hotel during one of the tours--- she was 87 and doing whatever the Hell she wanted to do. (she was like that)

My older brother is also a car guy--- but more into American Muscle. His first car was a 72 Monte Carlo, and a few years ago he did a great job restoring / rest-modding a 72 Camaro (split bumper, 4 speed, 396 cid) That thing was gorgeous. He now has a 77 Vista Cruiser with a 400 hp Olds 350. He worked at a body shop for 5 or so years, and is still a wizard with a paint gun.

I caught the bug before I can remember---- maybe when I was 3 or 4 years old. My brother and I would sneak into my grandmothers old, dusty, musty barn. (bats lived up in the attic!) Under a tarp sat the engine and trans from my Dad's old XK150. We'd peel off the tarp and just stare at the engine-----it LOOKED like power!

I was hooked-- still am.

Depending on what the whine coming from the mustang is, I may be helping my dad strip his new edge for FFR donor purposes in another month or so, otherwise it is coming apart in the fall.

Everyone on my dads side was into cars, My uncle owned a couple body shops in Sudbury Ontario. My mom and Dad moved to Detroit when he got a job at Borg Warner. We always had a big shop in the back yard, It was cool growing up having access to the shop and a lot of junk cars and bikes to mess with. As I got older and more of tinkering age my Dad was too busy with other things. I missed the time we had when we were younger. It never got out of my system and still am only content (and broke) if I have a project.

My parent's current car is an automatic beige 2013 Hyundai Elantra. The closest my father ever was to a car enthusiast was when he bought a Toyota Celica new in 1976.

And the extended family is the same. In fact, I would say that most of my family sees car as a barely justifiable evil.

So I am a real weirdo in their eyes.

I wrote this a few years ago, it sums is up pretty well:

I have no idea if my son likes cars. At 12 weeks of age he really only likes three things: eating, sleeping, and pooping. I'd like to think he likes cars too. His closet is filled with clothes that feature car themes. Little car shoes, little car pants, little car jackets, etc. But what will be the spark (if any) that makes him a "car guy"? If it happens at all that spark will probably come from the same place mine did: Dad.

My Dad never sold himself as a car guy. Sure he owned a shop and had a few cars in his time, but he was never a mechanic. The closest he got was changing tires. Back then all the store managers wore a button down shirt and tie. My Dad would run the tire changer with his tie tucked into his shirt for safety. He got out in the shop with employees and worked with them side-by-side.

I never got to see my Dad work like that. By the time I came around my Dad was stuck behind a desk doing all the paperwork that it takes to run a business. I spent my summer days at the shop being expressly told not to bother the mechanics (which I promptly ignored). My father had other plans for me. He began teaching me all the finer points of running a business. He was creating his future through me. I would take over the store some day and he would retire. I wasn't going to be a mechanic, I would be a businessman. Funny how things turn out.

Over the years my father shared his love of cars in different ways with my brother and I. My brother inherited Dad's '69 Cutlass S while I got an '83 Camaro. Luckily Dad knew the importance of having a cool car in high school. He had a '57 MGA that he loved dearly. It wasn't until he married my mother that the impracticality of a little British sportscar reared its head. The MGA was sold, Dad got drafted and time moved on.

By the time I was old enough to drive I knew I had to tinker with my cars. Dad sat back and tried his best to convince me to leave my car alone but I never listened. I didn't harm my car but I am sure I didn't help it. It wasn't until I was out of high school and needed tuition money did my father and I hit upon a great idea. My father would find cars that needed mechanical work and I would fix them. We would sell them and use the money to pay for my college tuition.

By then my father had closed his shop and my future had taken a different direction. Student loans were out of the question in my mind and financial aid only goes so far. So my father and I began a "Sanford & Son" style garage operation in our basement for the next several years. Dad had great talent in finding broken cars and I grew fearless in my mechanical abilities. We fixed and sold all kinds of cars, pickup trucks, an RV, and even a monster truck. We'd spend countless afternoons in the driveway talking as I wrenched away. Through that entire time my father never once told me I couldn't do something. Those were the defining moments in my love of cars. Through my love of cars I am living my father's belief in me. Every time I resurrect an old car or make a tricky repair I know that my Dad was the one who made it possible. And now I have to find a way to pass that same confidence on to my son.

Our hobby has a rich past, but it also has a bright future. Passing on a love of cars to our sons and daughters not only ensures our hobby's future, it is also a chance to pass on life skills that can prove far more useful than any hand tool.

Toyman01 wrote: No. My father could fix cars, but he wasn't "into" them. He just hated to pay someone to do something he could do himself.

My Dad was like this too! He had Spitfire that always needed something fixed. The daily driver was a '68 Pontiac Ventura (full-size) with a 400, 4 barrel dual exhaust, front disc brakes and three-on-the-tree. He ordered it that way. Use to pull a camper with it. He loved saying how he passed those pickups towing campers going uphill while he was towing a camper with a two door coupe.

Cars were always manuals until he bought his last car, 2000 Chevy Silverado 2500hD with the 8.1 liter and Allison transmission. Towed a camper with that too. Nobody towing passed him going uphill.

He taught me how to do basic maintenance like oil changes and points. Got me started collecting tools in high school. I always remember that Spitfire having a Planters peanut can for a muffler repair.

His tools were always disorganized and you could never find a tool you wanted. Mine were always organized and within easy reach. Dad envied that and asked me if he could borrow my tools. I told he was always welcome to borrow them he just had to wipe them off and put that back in the same place when he was finished. Dad never borrowed my tools!

My dad and I sort of passed the car bug back and forth. He was a car guy in his youth, but not really as I was growing up. He had an AMX and a Europa that both left before I was born. He was always more of an airplane guy.

He did give me the the confidence and inspiration to work on mechanical things, but generally as a means to an end, rather than an end in and of itself. I helped him build an RV-4, including putting the whole engine together. He taught me how to maintain a bicycle for transportation. I did simple wrench jobs on my first cars just because I had more time than money.

I got the car bug myself mostly by playing Gran Turismo (2? 3?) in the college dorm room and living in Monterey on Hwy 1. Got into sports cars and racing on my own after college when I had some spare cash. That's when I really became a car guy.

I started taking my dad to track days and auto-x and that's when he discovered how fun that was and wanted a Miata of his own.

Claff wrote: Dear old dad back in the day This was some sort of autocross/rallycross on a dirt oval somewhere in upstate NY Another autocross in his Snell-rated fedora

The dirt track may have been at Whites Beach Speedway. Near Balston Lake. Amec held events there for awhile. I think bob did run there.

My dad goes way back with cars. I don't know if he was "into cars" since he had dealerships in many different cars and trucks. He was an excellent machinest an he ah great curiosity as how things worked. He took an early Hyramatic transmission apart to see how it worked. He took a lot of interest in helping me with projects.

no

Pops liked cars, but he loved Oldsmobiles. At any given moment, he either had one or wished he had one.

When he had his mid-life crisis, he got a Trans Am, but mumbled that there was no good reason that Oldsmobile didn't offer an F-Body.

Towards the end of his life, he got a really good deal on a Cadillac, which he referred to as "a really fancy Oldsmobile."

In reply to Ed Higginbotham

Man did you ever bring that 924 back from the dead. That's the best no cost Christmas present I ever gave. I do feel somewhat responsible, In a sort of ultra satisfying way.

My Dad is a heavy equipment mechanic. Always had some chevys back in the 70s/80s. We built three dirt track cars (late 70s novas) in our garage in southern West Virginia when we lived there. Huge part of my childhood was working on and dreaming about cars. Also going to the dirt track on Friday night was something dreams were made of for a kid. I've shared this photo before but this is a pic of the first car he completed. I'm the one holding the helmet.