G. Wayne Miller's Blog, page 21
December 11, 2015
My Dad and Airplanes
Author's Note: I wrote this three years ago, on the occasion of the tenth anniversary of my father's death. Like his memory, it has withstood the test of time. I have slightly updated it for today, December 11, 2015, the 13th anniversary of his death. Read the original here.
Roger L. Miller as a boy, early 1920s.
My Dad and Airplanesby G. Wayne Miller
I live near an airport. Depending on wind direction and other variables, planes sometimes pass directly over my house as they climb into the sky. If I’m outside, I always look up, marveling at the wonder of flight. I’ve witnessed many amazing developments -- the end of the Cold War, the advent of the digital world, for example -- but except perhaps for space travel, which of course is rooted at Kitty Hawk, none can compare.
I also always think of my father, Roger L. Miller, who died 13 years ago today.
Dad was a boy on May 20, 1927, when Charles Lindbergh took off in a single-engine plane from a field near New York City. Thirty-three-and-a-half hours later, he landed in Paris. That boy from a small Massachusetts town who became my father was astounded, like people all over the world. Lindbergh’s pioneering Atlantic crossing inspired him to get into aviation, and he wanted to do big things, maybe captain a plane or even head an airline. But the Great Depression, which forced him from college, diminished that dream. He drove a school bus to pay for trade school, where he became an airplane mechanic, which was his job as a wartime Navy enlisted man and during his entire civilian career. On this modest salary, he and my mother raised a family, sacrificing material things they surely desired.
My father was a smart and gentle man, not prone to harsh judgment, fond of a joke, a lover of newspapers and gardening and birds, chickadees especially. He was robust until a stroke in his 80s sent him to a nursing home, but I never heard him complain during those final, decrepit years. The last time I saw him conscious, he was reading his beloved Boston Globe, his old reading glasses uneven on his nose, from a hospital bed. The morning sun was shining through the window and for a moment, I held the unrealistic hope that he would make it through this latest distress. He died four days later, quietly, I am told. I was not there.
Like others who have lost loved ones, there are conversations I never had with my Dad that I probably should have. But near the end, we did say we loved each other, which was rare (he was, after all, a Yankee). I smoothed his brow and kissed him goodbye.
So on this 13th anniversary, I have no deep regrets. But I do have two impossible wishes.
My first is that Dad could have heard my eulogy, which I began writing that morning by his hospital bed. It spoke of quiet wisdom he imparted to his children, and of the respect and affection family and others held for him. In his modest way, he would have liked to hear it, I bet, for such praise was scarce when he was alive. But that is not how the story goes. We die and leave only memories, a strictly one-way experience.
My second wish would be to tell Dad how his only son has fared in the last 13 years. I know he would have empathy for some bad times I went through and be proud that I made it. He would be happy that I found a woman I love, Yolanda, my wife now: someone, like him, who loves gardening and birds. He would be pleased that my three children are making their way in the world, and that he now has three great-granddaughters, wonderful girls all. In his humble way, he would be honored to know how frequently I, my sister and my children remember and miss him. He would be saddened to learn that my other sister, his younger daughter, Lynda, died this year. But that is not how the story goes, either. We send thoughts to the dead, but the experience is one-way. We treasure photographs, but they do not speak.
Lately, I have been poring through boxes of black-and-white prints handed down from Dad’s side of my family. I am lucky to have them, more so that they were taken in the pre-digital age -- for I can touch them, as the people captured in them surely themselves did so long ago. I can imagine what they might say, if in fact they could speak.
Some of the scenes are unfamiliar to me: sailboats on a bay, a stream in winter, a couple posing on a hill, the woman dressed in fur-trimmed coat. But I recognize the house, which my grandfather, for whom I am named, built with his farmer’s hands; the coal stove that still heated the kitchen when I visited as a child; the birdhouses and flower gardens, which my sweet grandmother lovingly tended. I recognize my father, my uncle and my aunts, just children then in the 1920s. I peer at Dad in these portraits (he seems always to be smiling!), and the resemblance to photos of me at that age is startling, though I suppose it should not be.
A plane will fly over my house today, I am certain. When it does, I will go outside and think of young Dad, amazed that someone had taken the controls of an airplane in America and stepped out in France. A boy with a smile, his life all ahead of him.
Roger L. Miller as a boy, early 1920s.
My Dad and Airplanesby G. Wayne Miller
I live near an airport. Depending on wind direction and other variables, planes sometimes pass directly over my house as they climb into the sky. If I’m outside, I always look up, marveling at the wonder of flight. I’ve witnessed many amazing developments -- the end of the Cold War, the advent of the digital world, for example -- but except perhaps for space travel, which of course is rooted at Kitty Hawk, none can compare.
I also always think of my father, Roger L. Miller, who died 13 years ago today.
Dad was a boy on May 20, 1927, when Charles Lindbergh took off in a single-engine plane from a field near New York City. Thirty-three-and-a-half hours later, he landed in Paris. That boy from a small Massachusetts town who became my father was astounded, like people all over the world. Lindbergh’s pioneering Atlantic crossing inspired him to get into aviation, and he wanted to do big things, maybe captain a plane or even head an airline. But the Great Depression, which forced him from college, diminished that dream. He drove a school bus to pay for trade school, where he became an airplane mechanic, which was his job as a wartime Navy enlisted man and during his entire civilian career. On this modest salary, he and my mother raised a family, sacrificing material things they surely desired.
My father was a smart and gentle man, not prone to harsh judgment, fond of a joke, a lover of newspapers and gardening and birds, chickadees especially. He was robust until a stroke in his 80s sent him to a nursing home, but I never heard him complain during those final, decrepit years. The last time I saw him conscious, he was reading his beloved Boston Globe, his old reading glasses uneven on his nose, from a hospital bed. The morning sun was shining through the window and for a moment, I held the unrealistic hope that he would make it through this latest distress. He died four days later, quietly, I am told. I was not there.
Like others who have lost loved ones, there are conversations I never had with my Dad that I probably should have. But near the end, we did say we loved each other, which was rare (he was, after all, a Yankee). I smoothed his brow and kissed him goodbye.
So on this 13th anniversary, I have no deep regrets. But I do have two impossible wishes.
My first is that Dad could have heard my eulogy, which I began writing that morning by his hospital bed. It spoke of quiet wisdom he imparted to his children, and of the respect and affection family and others held for him. In his modest way, he would have liked to hear it, I bet, for such praise was scarce when he was alive. But that is not how the story goes. We die and leave only memories, a strictly one-way experience.
My second wish would be to tell Dad how his only son has fared in the last 13 years. I know he would have empathy for some bad times I went through and be proud that I made it. He would be happy that I found a woman I love, Yolanda, my wife now: someone, like him, who loves gardening and birds. He would be pleased that my three children are making their way in the world, and that he now has three great-granddaughters, wonderful girls all. In his humble way, he would be honored to know how frequently I, my sister and my children remember and miss him. He would be saddened to learn that my other sister, his younger daughter, Lynda, died this year. But that is not how the story goes, either. We send thoughts to the dead, but the experience is one-way. We treasure photographs, but they do not speak.
Lately, I have been poring through boxes of black-and-white prints handed down from Dad’s side of my family. I am lucky to have them, more so that they were taken in the pre-digital age -- for I can touch them, as the people captured in them surely themselves did so long ago. I can imagine what they might say, if in fact they could speak.
Some of the scenes are unfamiliar to me: sailboats on a bay, a stream in winter, a couple posing on a hill, the woman dressed in fur-trimmed coat. But I recognize the house, which my grandfather, for whom I am named, built with his farmer’s hands; the coal stove that still heated the kitchen when I visited as a child; the birdhouses and flower gardens, which my sweet grandmother lovingly tended. I recognize my father, my uncle and my aunts, just children then in the 1920s. I peer at Dad in these portraits (he seems always to be smiling!), and the resemblance to photos of me at that age is startling, though I suppose it should not be.
A plane will fly over my house today, I am certain. When it does, I will go outside and think of young Dad, amazed that someone had taken the controls of an airplane in America and stepped out in France. A boy with a smile, his life all ahead of him.
December 9, 2015
VIDEO: More classic cars in action. PLUS: another great review by a car lover!
At the bottom of this post, you will find links to more classic cars, including 1 1904 Oldsmobile and a 1912 Packard, running at the launch party for CAR CRAZY. Fun stuff!
First though, a glowing endorsement from Just a Car Guy, aka Jesse Bowers, who writes, in part that CAR CRAZY “Does the best job of teaching you everything about the 1st decade of American car-making (1900 – 1910) that I think we are ever likely to get. If you want to learn how the Ford, Olds, Reo, Chevrolet, Buick and GM got started, this book is indispensable. It’s really that good.”
READ THE FULL REVIEW!
And here are the videos -- quick views, definitely worth the quick clicks!
-- 1904 Olds drivin' by!
-- 1912 Packard!
-- The '04 Olds heading out!
-- Starting an '04 Olds was NEVER easy!
First though, a glowing endorsement from Just a Car Guy, aka Jesse Bowers, who writes, in part that CAR CRAZY “Does the best job of teaching you everything about the 1st decade of American car-making (1900 – 1910) that I think we are ever likely to get. If you want to learn how the Ford, Olds, Reo, Chevrolet, Buick and GM got started, this book is indispensable. It’s really that good.”
READ THE FULL REVIEW!
And here are the videos -- quick views, definitely worth the quick clicks!
-- 1904 Olds drivin' by!
-- 1912 Packard!
-- The '04 Olds heading out!
-- Starting an '04 Olds was NEVER easy!
December 2, 2015
Talking cars on national PBS and worldwide VOA TV, plus a nice new review
Spent a wonderful half hour talking old cars -- and new cars -- and looking at photos of same -- with the distinguished LLewellyn King, host of the national PBS Show White House Chronicle, which is also broadcast on AMG TV, and worldwide on Voice of America Television and Sirius XM Radio's Channel 124. Llewellyn, whose car days go back to his father's Ford Model A, was kind enough to praise Car Crazy, calling it "Absolutely extraordinary... Get this book! It is very, very readable. Fascinating." You can watch the episode here or watch for it to be be-broadcast soon.
And on a related note, the Newport Mercury on December 2, 2015, published a nice story about the book (and the writing of it). "Fascinating," the weekly wrote. "It was a time of off-the-wall characters, eager-to-corner markets and run competitors off the road. We meet the ruthless Frederic Smith, the CEO of Olds Motor Works, and, of course, Ford." Read the story.
December 1, 2015
Scenes from a signing
Spent a fine hour and a half at Barrington Books Retold in Garden City, Rhode Island, on Sunday, November 29. A great store run by great people -- and we pulled in many Car Crazy folks. Of course, having Viv, my beautiful baby granddaughter, on hand was really the trick to interesting buyers!
Viv loves a red pen, too!
Joy to the world!
Car Crazy and King of Hearts.Learn more about the rest of my books, non-fiction and fiction, at Gwaynemiller.com
Viv loves a red pen, too!
Joy to the world!
Car Crazy and King of Hearts.Learn more about the rest of my books, non-fiction and fiction, at Gwaynemiller.com
November 25, 2015
Busy weekend for #CarCrazy!
The Thanksgiving weekend will bring thanks-worthy things for Car Crazy and I invite you to participate. On from 1 to 2:30 p.m. on Sunday, November 29, I will be signing books at the newly opened Barrington Books retold store in Garden City. How cool is this great new independent store? They actually have a French Citroen auto inside! I may sit in it to sign. Join us! Details here.
And Saturday and Sunday, the PBS program White House Chronicle will broadcast my half hour interview with Llewellyn King, award-winning journalist, author, HuffPost contributor and host of the show. White House Chronicle airs nationwide on some 200 PBS and other stations; and worldwide on Voice of America Television. An audio version of the program airs Saturdays at 9:30 a.m. and 3:30 p.m. ET on Sirius XM Radio's POTUS (Politics of the United States) Channel 124. Check your local schedule!November 16, 2015
Listen to a fun hour talking old cars on Drive Thru Radio!
On Saturday, Nov. 14, I was the guest on Drive Thru Radio, AM-790, Providence, R.I., hosted by Paul Zangari and his brother John, who have loved cars sicne they were teens. We spent a full hour talking Car Crazy and the many people featured in the book: Henry Ford, Ransom Olds, Billy Durant (creator of General Motors), and more. Also, the many cars: Oldsmobiles, Model Ts, REOs, Packards and others.
Listen to the podcast.
Enjoy the ride!
John and Paul Zangari, crazy about cars!
Enjoy the ride!
John and Paul Zangari, crazy about cars!November 12, 2015
Appearances and signings. And a reading with photos of very old cars!
As we enter the second week of publication for CAR CRAZY, the schedule of events is taking shape. And there's a lot on tap. I invite you to participate. Join the #CarCrazy fun!
-- On Saturday, November 14, from 8 a.m. to 9 a.m. EST, I will be the in-studio guest of Drive Thru Radio, with hosts Paul and John Zangari (below), car-lovers and experts extraordinaire. Drive Thru is broadcast on AM-790 (Providence, R.I.) on the radio dial, and available live on the web through the AM-790 site.
-- On Sunday, November 29, from 1 p.m. to 2:30 p.m. I will be signing at the new Barrington Books store in the Garden City mall, 176 Hillside Road, Cranston, R.I. Details at the Barrington Books Retold site. This will be fun -- as you can see from this photo of the new store, they love cars -- that's a Citroen you see through the window!
-- On Tuesday, December 1, I will be reading, speaking, signing, and showing photos of many old cars (including the early Model T and the 1904 Oldsmobile, two of the main cars in Car Crazy) at the Barrington, Rhode Island, Public Library. Evening starts at 7 p.m.
-- Still to be scheduled, but coming soon (check back here for updates):
>>> C-SPAN BOOK TV broadcast of the November 1, 2015, launch party at the Pell Center in Newport, Rhode Island.
>>> The half hour I taped with wonderful host LLewellyn King on White House Chronicle.
>>> The January book tour to Detroit and Michigan.
-- On Saturday, November 14, from 8 a.m. to 9 a.m. EST, I will be the in-studio guest of Drive Thru Radio, with hosts Paul and John Zangari (below), car-lovers and experts extraordinaire. Drive Thru is broadcast on AM-790 (Providence, R.I.) on the radio dial, and available live on the web through the AM-790 site.
-- On Sunday, November 29, from 1 p.m. to 2:30 p.m. I will be signing at the new Barrington Books store in the Garden City mall, 176 Hillside Road, Cranston, R.I. Details at the Barrington Books Retold site. This will be fun -- as you can see from this photo of the new store, they love cars -- that's a Citroen you see through the window!
-- On Tuesday, December 1, I will be reading, speaking, signing, and showing photos of many old cars (including the early Model T and the 1904 Oldsmobile, two of the main cars in Car Crazy) at the Barrington, Rhode Island, Public Library. Evening starts at 7 p.m.
-- Still to be scheduled, but coming soon (check back here for updates):
>>> C-SPAN BOOK TV broadcast of the November 1, 2015, launch party at the Pell Center in Newport, Rhode Island.
>>> The half hour I taped with wonderful host LLewellyn King on White House Chronicle.
>>> The January book tour to Detroit and Michigan.
November 7, 2015
In My Merry Oldsmobile (and Model T, Packard and Duryea)
"In My Merry Oldsmobile" was one of the hit songs of 1905, a huge year for the automobile industry -- and a huge year in many of the stories told in CAR CRAZY. That's the year two of these Curved Dash Oldsmobiles raced from Manhattan to Portland, Oregon, one of the adventure I chronicle in the book. The winner took... 45 days.
Courtesy of the Audrain Automobile Museum, we had one of these merry Oldsmobiles -- an original 1904 model -- at the November 1 launch party. Also on hand, and running: a 1912 Packard, a 1912 Ford Model T Speedster, and an 1893 Duryea replica.
Herewith is a photo of the the cover of the original "In My Merry Oldsmobile" (risque, for the era, lyrics below) and some photos from the party. And if you'd like to watch a cool video of the cars in action, watch here.
More about the book at the CAR CRAZY site. As always, enjoy the ride!
Hit song of 1905
That same model Olds, at Newport party, 2015.
Miller at wheel of 1912 Model T Speedster. 1893 Duryea in back.
Even babies love a ride in a 111-year-old merry Olds!Take a ride yourself in this video, shot from inside a 1912 Packard, the merry Olds puttering by...!
Courtesy of the Audrain Automobile Museum, we had one of these merry Oldsmobiles -- an original 1904 model -- at the November 1 launch party. Also on hand, and running: a 1912 Packard, a 1912 Ford Model T Speedster, and an 1893 Duryea replica.
Herewith is a photo of the the cover of the original "In My Merry Oldsmobile" (risque, for the era, lyrics below) and some photos from the party. And if you'd like to watch a cool video of the cars in action, watch here.
More about the book at the CAR CRAZY site. As always, enjoy the ride!
Hit song of 1905
That same model Olds, at Newport party, 2015.
Miller at wheel of 1912 Model T Speedster. 1893 Duryea in back.
Even babies love a ride in a 111-year-old merry Olds!Take a ride yourself in this video, shot from inside a 1912 Packard, the merry Olds puttering by...!November 2, 2015
Remarks, rides and a reading at the 11/1/15 launch party, Pell Center, Newport, RI
On a glorious fall day, we packed the house at Salve Regina University's Pell Center in Newport, R.I., for the launch party for
CAR CRAZY: The Battle for Supremacy between Ford and Olds and the Dawn of the Automobile Age.
C-SPAN BOOK TV taped the event for broadcast soon, and we had four antique cars on hand, courtesy of Ambassador Bill Middendorf and the great Audrain Automobile Museum. The 1904 Oldsmobile, 1912 Model T Speedster, the 1912 and the 1893 Duryea ran, and our donors gave guests rides. Watch them in action on YouTube.
Pell Center executive director Jim Ludes have introductory remarks and then I spoke, read and took questions, and then signed many books. Below are my remarks. Enjoy the ride!
Author Miller speaking.
Part of the crowd, C-SPAN BOOK TV cameras rolling.
Good afternoon. Let me join Jim in welcoming you. And let me thank the Pell Center, Salve Regina University, The Providence Journal, and my publisher, PublicAffairs. This is my third book with them, and they are the best. Gratitude also to Salve President Sister Jane Gerety, who would have attended if she hadn’t already planned to be out of town.
Two folks have travelled a distance to be here today and I’d like to acknowledge them. Editor Lisa Kaufman, who has played an important role in my writing since my book about NASCAR, Men and Speed, published in 2002, is here from New York. Lisa took a draft of Car Crazy and performed her editing magic, greatly improving it.
Drew Smith, my screenwriting partner and longtime friend, has come from the West Coast. Drew knows better than most about motoring from driving the 405 near his home in southern California. Welcome to Newport, Drew.
And there are many other good friends and relatives who have travelled shorter distances, from Rhode Island and elsewhere in New England.
In a moment, I will read from Car Crazy. But first, an observation about writing. The truth is, writing is about the most rewarding and most miserable calling, wrapped into one, that I can imagine. Good that I’m part Irish.
As my writer friends here today can testify, you spend untold hours alone at your keyboard, hoping the dog won’t need to go out, or someone won’t knock on the door, or the phone won’t ring, or there won’t be any other interruptions – at least until you finish this passage that has been haunting you, sometimes even in your sleep.
All this as you obsess – and I do mean obsess -- over the choice of a word, or the smoothness of the narrative arc, or whether this is too much or too little detail, or which character should have a starring role and which belongs on the cutting-room floor.
You endeavor to be judicious with every word, understanding that dialogue is crucial and nouns and verbs are the best tools in your kit. Stephen King’s adage -- “the road to hell is paved with adjectives” -- echoes in your head, and yet you still use them and their evil twin, the adverbs, too freely. Which is when it would be nice if your editor – or better yet, Stephen King himself -- were on hand at that moment to save you.
And despite your focus, you sometimes check your email, social media, or phone.Go figure.
The alone part and the crankiness that accompanies it when that passage still frustrates you or the narrative arc has imploded is unfair to those you hold dear. Yet they tolerate it -- most times, anyway -- which is probably more than I would in their shoes.
“All this over a word? Really? Really?” is what I imagine I would say.
The rewarding part, by the way, is a day like today -- when your work is finally published and you can forget word choice, at least for a few hours, and just have a good time with family and friends and readers.
So what can I say to someone who knows this obsession intimately: my wife, Yolanda, who beyond being understanding could almost have written Car Crazy herself, since another thing about writers is that when break away from their writing, they like to blab. Sometimes about trivial matters, such as how long it took an automobile to drive from Manhattan to Portland, Oregon, in the spring of 1905, for example.
Forty-five days, two hours and thirty minutes, in case you were wondering.
What I can say is: thank you, Yolanda, for everything.
Thanks also to my children who are here today: Rachel and Kate, who lived with my passion for many years, dating back to my first book, the horror/mystery novel Thunder Rise, published in 1989, when they were little kids. They are why I began getting up at 4:30 or 5 to write, a schedule I still keep, so that I could be present when they began their days. And to think they now have children of their own! A special shout-out to Bella, Livvie and Vivienne!
Before I read from Car Crazy, indulge me in some informal market research. I have four quick questions. Please respond with a show of hands.
-- How many people here today did NOT arrive in a motor vehicle?[One hand went up]
-- How many of you have ever been stuck in traffic?[All hands went up]
-- How many of you have ever loved a car -- your own or someone else’s?[All hands went up]
-- How many think you could live – happily or unhappily -- without ever riding in a motor vehicle of any kind again?[One hand went up]
As we have just unscientifically demonstrated, the motor vehicle dramatically transformed society -- unlike any other technology in history, I would assert, with the exception of the printing press. The factory, the steam engine, the railroad – and today’s computer, internet, and iPhone -- do not quite compare.
There are more than 250 million motor vehicles registered in America in 2015, and an estimated 1.2 billion or more worldwide. This ubiquitous machine continues to power major sectors of the domestic and international economies. It helped create suburbia. Except for the Northeast, it all but ended American inter-city passenger rail. It injures and kills in still-horrifying numbers. The gas-powered version contributes to global warming -- and its thirst for petroleum has sparked wars. It has been the subject of some of the ugliest corporate scandals in history, most recently with General Motors and Volkswagen.
The automobile, of course, has also been loved and cherished. I myself felt my first crush as a teenager at the wheel of an old black Ford sedan -- and I got a twinge again today driving across the Jamestown and Pell Bridges. I shouldn’t have been but I was speeding. It felt great!
And as we all know, the car is the protagonist or a principal character in countless songs, books, and movies. The Great American Road trip still mesmerizes us.
The automobile was born more than a century ago during a frenzy of invention and contention as the horseless carriage proliferated and the traditionalists, who hated it, took aim. Literally, they took aim: stonings of motorists by mobs armed with rocks, sticks, tea kettles, tin cans and metal pails regularly made the front page of The New York Times.
Stonings were only one front in a war that pitted manufacturers and motorists against those who opposed “the automobile evil,” as a New York state senator called the car in 1902. In legislatures, municipal councils, courts and the press -- in cities and in the country, where farmers sometimes used guns to chase drivers away -- the sides battled over speed limits, traffic control, licensing, registration and taxes. They argued liability and penalties for the mounting numbers of injuries and fatalities. They debated whether horns and lights should be mandated, and whether motorists should be jailed for terrifying horses.
It all began with people like the farm boy from Michigan whose name is on some of the cars, old and new, parked outside today.
[READ beginning of Chapter One]
In closing, let me express my gratitude to the people who brought those incredible classic cars parked outside. Ambassador Bill Middendorf and his motor men Mitch Morin and Kyle Santos brought the 1893 Duryea replica and the 1912 Model T Speedster. The Audrain Automobile Museum, right here on Bellevue Avenue – I highly recommend a visit -- brought the 1912 Packard and the 1904 Oldsmobile, the model that crossed from Manhattan to Portland, Oregon, in 1905, one of many adventures I chronicle in Car Crazy. Museum executive director David de Muzio and mechanics Joe Lanuez and Bill Meteraud are in charge of those great cars.
I will be signing books in the board room, off the main lobby, in a few minutes. And, at 3:30, we will have a running of all of the cars.
Right now, I’d be happy to take a few questions.
[several questions followed]
Pell Center executive director Jim Ludes have introductory remarks and then I spoke, read and took questions, and then signed many books. Below are my remarks. Enjoy the ride!
Author Miller speaking.
Part of the crowd, C-SPAN BOOK TV cameras rolling.Good afternoon. Let me join Jim in welcoming you. And let me thank the Pell Center, Salve Regina University, The Providence Journal, and my publisher, PublicAffairs. This is my third book with them, and they are the best. Gratitude also to Salve President Sister Jane Gerety, who would have attended if she hadn’t already planned to be out of town.
Two folks have travelled a distance to be here today and I’d like to acknowledge them. Editor Lisa Kaufman, who has played an important role in my writing since my book about NASCAR, Men and Speed, published in 2002, is here from New York. Lisa took a draft of Car Crazy and performed her editing magic, greatly improving it.
Drew Smith, my screenwriting partner and longtime friend, has come from the West Coast. Drew knows better than most about motoring from driving the 405 near his home in southern California. Welcome to Newport, Drew.
And there are many other good friends and relatives who have travelled shorter distances, from Rhode Island and elsewhere in New England.
In a moment, I will read from Car Crazy. But first, an observation about writing. The truth is, writing is about the most rewarding and most miserable calling, wrapped into one, that I can imagine. Good that I’m part Irish.
As my writer friends here today can testify, you spend untold hours alone at your keyboard, hoping the dog won’t need to go out, or someone won’t knock on the door, or the phone won’t ring, or there won’t be any other interruptions – at least until you finish this passage that has been haunting you, sometimes even in your sleep.
All this as you obsess – and I do mean obsess -- over the choice of a word, or the smoothness of the narrative arc, or whether this is too much or too little detail, or which character should have a starring role and which belongs on the cutting-room floor.
You endeavor to be judicious with every word, understanding that dialogue is crucial and nouns and verbs are the best tools in your kit. Stephen King’s adage -- “the road to hell is paved with adjectives” -- echoes in your head, and yet you still use them and their evil twin, the adverbs, too freely. Which is when it would be nice if your editor – or better yet, Stephen King himself -- were on hand at that moment to save you.
And despite your focus, you sometimes check your email, social media, or phone.Go figure.
The alone part and the crankiness that accompanies it when that passage still frustrates you or the narrative arc has imploded is unfair to those you hold dear. Yet they tolerate it -- most times, anyway -- which is probably more than I would in their shoes.
“All this over a word? Really? Really?” is what I imagine I would say.
The rewarding part, by the way, is a day like today -- when your work is finally published and you can forget word choice, at least for a few hours, and just have a good time with family and friends and readers.
So what can I say to someone who knows this obsession intimately: my wife, Yolanda, who beyond being understanding could almost have written Car Crazy herself, since another thing about writers is that when break away from their writing, they like to blab. Sometimes about trivial matters, such as how long it took an automobile to drive from Manhattan to Portland, Oregon, in the spring of 1905, for example.
Forty-five days, two hours and thirty minutes, in case you were wondering.
What I can say is: thank you, Yolanda, for everything.
Thanks also to my children who are here today: Rachel and Kate, who lived with my passion for many years, dating back to my first book, the horror/mystery novel Thunder Rise, published in 1989, when they were little kids. They are why I began getting up at 4:30 or 5 to write, a schedule I still keep, so that I could be present when they began their days. And to think they now have children of their own! A special shout-out to Bella, Livvie and Vivienne!
Before I read from Car Crazy, indulge me in some informal market research. I have four quick questions. Please respond with a show of hands.
-- How many people here today did NOT arrive in a motor vehicle?[One hand went up]
-- How many of you have ever been stuck in traffic?[All hands went up]
-- How many of you have ever loved a car -- your own or someone else’s?[All hands went up]
-- How many think you could live – happily or unhappily -- without ever riding in a motor vehicle of any kind again?[One hand went up]
As we have just unscientifically demonstrated, the motor vehicle dramatically transformed society -- unlike any other technology in history, I would assert, with the exception of the printing press. The factory, the steam engine, the railroad – and today’s computer, internet, and iPhone -- do not quite compare.
There are more than 250 million motor vehicles registered in America in 2015, and an estimated 1.2 billion or more worldwide. This ubiquitous machine continues to power major sectors of the domestic and international economies. It helped create suburbia. Except for the Northeast, it all but ended American inter-city passenger rail. It injures and kills in still-horrifying numbers. The gas-powered version contributes to global warming -- and its thirst for petroleum has sparked wars. It has been the subject of some of the ugliest corporate scandals in history, most recently with General Motors and Volkswagen.
The automobile, of course, has also been loved and cherished. I myself felt my first crush as a teenager at the wheel of an old black Ford sedan -- and I got a twinge again today driving across the Jamestown and Pell Bridges. I shouldn’t have been but I was speeding. It felt great!
And as we all know, the car is the protagonist or a principal character in countless songs, books, and movies. The Great American Road trip still mesmerizes us.
The automobile was born more than a century ago during a frenzy of invention and contention as the horseless carriage proliferated and the traditionalists, who hated it, took aim. Literally, they took aim: stonings of motorists by mobs armed with rocks, sticks, tea kettles, tin cans and metal pails regularly made the front page of The New York Times.
Stonings were only one front in a war that pitted manufacturers and motorists against those who opposed “the automobile evil,” as a New York state senator called the car in 1902. In legislatures, municipal councils, courts and the press -- in cities and in the country, where farmers sometimes used guns to chase drivers away -- the sides battled over speed limits, traffic control, licensing, registration and taxes. They argued liability and penalties for the mounting numbers of injuries and fatalities. They debated whether horns and lights should be mandated, and whether motorists should be jailed for terrifying horses.
It all began with people like the farm boy from Michigan whose name is on some of the cars, old and new, parked outside today.
[READ beginning of Chapter One]
In closing, let me express my gratitude to the people who brought those incredible classic cars parked outside. Ambassador Bill Middendorf and his motor men Mitch Morin and Kyle Santos brought the 1893 Duryea replica and the 1912 Model T Speedster. The Audrain Automobile Museum, right here on Bellevue Avenue – I highly recommend a visit -- brought the 1912 Packard and the 1904 Oldsmobile, the model that crossed from Manhattan to Portland, Oregon, in 1905, one of many adventures I chronicle in Car Crazy. Museum executive director David de Muzio and mechanics Joe Lanuez and Bill Meteraud are in charge of those great cars.
I will be signing books in the board room, off the main lobby, in a few minutes. And, at 3:30, we will have a running of all of the cars.
Right now, I’d be happy to take a few questions.
[several questions followed]
October 30, 2015
Last Call for Classic Cars in Newport, R.I., 11/1!
You still have time -- but not much! -- to register for the free Car Crazy launch party, 2 p.m., Sunday, Nov. 1, at the Pell Center, 518 Bellevue Avenue, Newport, Rhode Island. These four classic cars, in photo below -- from 1893, 1904 and 1912 -- will be there. Register here and hope to see you in Newport. The forecast is for runnin' weather...
