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MAGICAL MYSTICAL MOPARS
Words and photos by Cliff Gromer
12/8/05
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Mopars possess mystical powers? I'll give you two examples
of what I mean. First, can a Mopar help you pick up girls?
Here's a true story I originally read this back in a 1968
issue of Car & Driver. This may not be exact, but it's
to the best of my recollection— and it's close enough.
There was a west coast-based writer at C&D who was driving
around in a Chrysler press fleet car—a 1968 silver Road
Runner. It was a base stripper model with 383 and dog dish
hubcaps. Anyhow, this guy was attending a SCCA Trans Am race,
and he was pals with Dan Gurney, who was racing a Ford at
the time. After the race, the C&D guy and Gurney left
the track together in separate cars.
Ford had given Gurney some tricked out Cougar or Mustang
to honk around in, and the car was a sharp looker with alloy
wheels and dingle balls or whatever was supposed to look cool
at the time. So, Gurney in his FoMoCo and the C&D guy in
the silver Road Runner are dicing on the back roads and having
a grand old time. The 'Runner, of course, has no trouble keeping
up with the Ford.
All the dicing comes to an end when the two guys hit Los
Angeles city traffic. Anyhow, Gurney pulls up to a light right
by a bus stop. There, waiting for a bus, is this knockout
young lady with a set of gravity-defying hooters. 'Course,
Mr. Famous Racer Dan Gurney gives her the eye and a big smile—and
he gets totally ignored. Then, the C&D guy behind him
makes with the beep, beep! Road Runner horn. The girl looks,
gives him a broad smile and nearly jumps into the seat beside
him, but her bus pulls up just at that moment. Was it the
Mopar? We'll let you decide.
Now, if Mopars have the mystical powers to do good, can they
also do evil? Here's what happened with my '48 Dodge business
coupe. This car seemingly wanted to destroy everyone that
laid a hand on it. I originally bought the car several years
ago from Bob Klopp, in Altoona, PA. Maybe the Dodge was pissed
off that Bob had sold it to me, because shortly thereafter,
Bob was wrenching on one of his other cars in his driveway.
Some stranger drove by, jumped the curb and center-punched
him right where he was standing. Bob didn't survive. Guess
he didn't have the wherewithal to “Dodge” the
bullet—because he had sold it.
Next, the Dodge went to a body shop owned by a guy named
Stan, in Fishkill, NY. Stan did some minor touch ups and adjustments.
Shortly thereafter, Stan developed a weird bacterial infection
that affected his heart. It stopped beating. The EMS managed
to jump start his ticker, but his brain had been deprived
of oxygen too long, and he had turned into a vegetable—a
turnip, I believe.
Next, the Dodge went in to a local mechanic by the name of
Steve in Paramus, NJ. Steve did some electrical work on the
coupe. He had the generator rewound and installed a new voltage
regulator. Right after that, Steve suffered a major stroke,
and he never turned another wrench again.
Next, Mopar Action tech headitor Rick “E-Booger”
Ehrenberg did some distributor work, as well as fixing an
oil leak on the Dodge. Nothing happened to him for a while,
and we thought the curse had been broken. But one day as he
was climbing up a metal ladder on an apartment building roof
to install an antenna system, the ladder pulled out of the
building wall and collapsed, sending the 'Booger and his assistant
25 feet below in a mass of twisted steel. Both of them ended
up in the hospital pretty busted up. While both survived the
accident, ‘Booger’s brain has never been the same
since.
Me? I just beat the odds, heh, heh. I finally broke down
and changed the oil on the Dodge rather than having the guy
at the service station do it. And, I can tell you that I never
felt better in my li... ARRRGGHH..Call 911!...(gurgle, gurg...)
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