Nothing But Time

Last week was a little unusual as, for the first time in over six years, I was laid up for several days with a nasty head cold. While I could handle the stuffy nose and the fact that my head felt like a brick, I was taken aback by the watering eyes, and especially the exhaustion. Some of my friends and coworkers mentioned they went through the same thing over the past few weeks. But one thing hit me harder more than anything else; I once again realized that I am not 25 years old anymore and that more than likely my 4am to 9:30pm days are tolling on me more than I realize. I finally had enough energy to sit in front of my laptop and write today.

Over the past few days in between periods of resting and medications, I had a chance to go through part of the car show schedule for New England for 2017, at least what's been submitted, a bunch of hot rod and car magazines, thanks to my wife, as well as some personal memorabilia. I get on this personal nostalgia kick especially when I'm feeling my age. Looking at positive memories from the past seems, at least psychologically, seems to make us more bullet proof. For example, I know full well that where I grew up in Ocean County New Jersey in the Point Pleasant / Seaside Heights area is absolutely nothing like it was when I was kid almost 50 years ago. Today, there's almost 600,000 people that county, triple the number of people when I moved out of the area in the early 70's, and it's nothing but condos and cookie-cutter houses, especially at the beaches.

But as glance through the somewhat glazed over window into the past, that doesn't matter. Looking at old photos, postcards, and what not from fifty years ago, takes me back to the mid to late 60's. At that point, that was my now. When I look at photos of drag racing action at Madison Township Raceway Park, (which is now Old Bridge Township Raceway), I can remember a track in its infancy. Ironically, everyone called it Englishtown (or E-town), because of the zip code assigned to it. Most people I know still call the track by that nickname. Opened in July 1965 by the Napoliello brothers, it shares some distinctive history; the track is still in existence, on it's original site, in a major metropolitan area, and is listed as one of the most fabled and best tracks both then and now. In today's world, that's saying something.

One of the magazine's my wife gave over the past few days, had most of it's ink and photos highlighting muscle cars that were still owned by their original owners. Again, if you examine the timeline, that is not only saying something, but is also downright amazing. Think about it - eventually this type of ownership will cease to exist. Even if you purchased a brand new something back in 1967, and you were only 20 years old, the math puts you at 70 years young today. In about another decade or two, the subject will solidly shift from "original owner" to "still in the family". We're starting to see some of the latter stories already. While it's cool to see all kinds of street rods and cool rides that were finally completed "in memory of...", it's a harsh fact that time doesn't slow down for anyone. And those numbers can sometimes be downright cruel.

So what am I saying? Enjoy and even rock the nostalgia anyway you can. Relive it if at all possible, especially in a bygone era hot rod. It's easy to say, "we have nothing but time", but we only have so much of it. Use it to your highest advantage.

Until next time, peace out.
Dave