hen I was a youngin’, my dad wasn’t much of a hobbyist when it came to automobiles. He did mess around with a few baja Bugs, but those were mostly just a quick flip despite my pleas for him to keep them! What exposure I did gain through the old man was through all the various forms of racing he took me to, most of which was the Saturday night dirt track/demolition derby action at Corona Raceway, which was literally right up the street from our house. So, how it came to be that instead of listening to my second grade teacher’s daily lessons I was scribbling flamed ’56 F-100 pickups (mostly panels) when no family member or friend of my father’s ever had one to begin with, is beyond me. But … it stuck.

By junior high, I was dreaming of custom Volkswagens, which I didn’t share much with my dad, but ironically, as I was just beginning my freshman year in high school, he bought me a ’69 Type III Fastback to “tinker on” until I got my license the following year. (I don’t believe he or my mom were ever the wiser, but you can bet that I’d become well-accustomed to driving that VW long before I was legally licensed to do so!) Along with random copies of Hot VWs and VW Trends, and some words of wisdom from friends at school, I did tinker with the Fastback as I drove it daily to school before I literally burned the trans up (it was an automatic), at which point my dad once again stepped up to the plate without me asking and bought me a ’66 Kombi bus! So, while he wasn’t directly influencing me as a hobbyist, he did greatly contribute to me becoming a “car guy,” that’s for sure.

With my son, it was completely different. From as early as age 3, I’d taken him to NHRA and NASCAR races. He’d been everywhere in both my ’53 Chevys (the chopped Bel Air and five-window pickup), and as you can imagine, his toy collection was 99.9 percent car related! He loved everything about hot rods, race cars, and so on. By his teenage years, he’d become more attached to video games, to my obvious dismay, but the fuel gene still remained, and by the time his driving era approached, like my dad before me, I got him his first car … er, truck!

For whatever reason, I initially envisioned an airbagged, 454 big-block–powered ’69 C10 as his ideal first vehicle and subsequently purchased said vehicle when he was just 14. As the truck sat in the garage, I began to rethink my intentions, for many reasons (mainly that it was not the “driver” I was led by the seller to believe it to be, and thus ended up tearing the whole thing down … it’s still down, but 75 percent redone from its original “driver” state!). Instead, I located an ’81 Datsun 280ZX that, six years later, he’s still driving—and tinkering on.

Now, while my son in no way inherited my bartering gene (by the time I graduated high school I’d been through a half-dozen vehicles—including a slammed ’74 Datsun bullet-side … my one and only “mini”!), he did get a good dose of the “car guy” in him, even if it’s heavily JDM influenced. He does constantly ride my behind about getting the ’69 done—he thinks there’s a glimmer of hope it may one day be his!

So, I always wonder, are we running out of next-generation candidates when all things are considered? If you have kids, are they even interested in vehicles as modes of transportation to begin with, let alone articles of self-expression and independence? I love that SEMA and Goodguys still acknowledge the Young Guns of our hobby, but in reality it all begins at home, doesn’t it? Granted, I definitely branched out into my expanded version of becoming a “car guy,” but I’m pretty certain without my influence, my son wouldn’t have done the same. It’s really up to us to keep the next generations interested AND involved, don’t you think?