When I was a kid, my father's Kettering, Ohio, auto shop was often my daycare center. Grease-stained mechanics wielding hefty tools the size of my arm knelt down and explained their work. Some showed me how to perform an oil change and diagnose a leaky head gasket, others how to align a timing belt and replace a busted windshield. Years later, as a Boy Scout, I earned my Automotive Maintenance merit badge with ease.
I should be someone passionate about cars and their storied place in this country's culture. A wrencher who dreams of red Mustangs and racing stripes.