Reflections of a ModemJunkie by Leonard Grossman This month the ModemJunkie initiates a new feature, "The Corner Garage." In this article, he sets forth the history of the Corner Garage. In the future he will visit the garage from time to time for the latest news. THE CORNER GARAGE It was the Winter of my 13th birthday. My mother, brother and I moved to a strange new neighborhood which seemed to be at the end of the world--near Cumberland and Forest Preserve Drive. I didn't know anyone. The winter passed slowly as I learned the neighborhood. I stayed at my old school, nearly two miles away, but I found a corner gas station with a mom and pop grocery store attached-- only a block from the house. I could hang out in the store and buy red licorice and "pills" but there were no other kids there. I could hear sounds coming from the garage. The revving of motors, loud exhausts, the clang of metal. But what went on behind those closed doors I didn't know. Then Spring came. The doors opened. There was a whole new world. In that little garage was a crew of regulars, covered in grease, tuning their old jalopies. Black '52 Fords... an old Chevy or two. Hour after hour these guys worked on these old beasts. Boring heads, replacing cylinders, adding lakers. So they would sound sweeter and go faster. There was one tall blond guy, hair greased back in a classic D.A. He was the king--he had a '54 Ford convertible. The hours he spent on that machine. Polishing the blue and white finish. Taking it apart, putting it together. Stopping every once in a while to light a new Lucky from the pack rolled up in the sleeve of his T-shirt. I was learning a lot. I wouldn't drive for three more years, but I was learning a wholly new vocabulary that no one at home would understand: "Turbo," "cylinder," "head," A whole new jargon. Of course, there were other words I couldn't repeat at home either. But that's another story. It was a world in which power and speed meant everything. Every day, someone had a new gizmo or gadget-- something new to make the cars look better.. go faster. Then one day a question occurred to me. Where could they drive these powerful machines? The Edens wasn't even built yet. Much less the Kennedy. Cumberland was a good drag strip for a couple of blocks. Why did they need all that power? But then I heard about somewhere new-- Lawrence Avenue, West of Cumberland where it made the long curve into Dee Road. Actually, I think it was the other way around. The long left turn from Dee into Lawrence mimicked the left turns of the great speedways. Of course, I'd only heard about that. I was still too young to drive. But then one day, after I'd handed the King a wrench, he said, "Let's see what she'll do. Jump in!" He'd been tuning it for weeks. He'd bored the cylinders, put in oversized pistons. And added shiny exhaust pipes, with laker plugs that let him control the back pressure and the rumble (I remember a finely tuned Ford seemed to sound like a percolator when it idled.) It was the first test after a major upgrade...and he was taking me along. Down Cumberland we went. Top down. Sun in our faces. He could barely restrain the power. Down Higgins and left on Dee. We stood stock still. He revved the engine, louder and louder--let the clutch slip and there was the screech of rubber as we shot toward that left hand curve.. he just continued to let it wind faster and faster. "When will he shift?" I wondered. Will we make the turn? And then the awful explosion as the piston blew!. Steam everywhere. The car spinning into the bushes and sliding to a stop!. Long scratches on the right side.. but we were safe... We walked back to the garage to get a tow. I was shaken. But a few days later, I saw the car again. The King was there, covered in grease, using rubbing compound to smooth the surface. And the guys all pitched in to help.. Each had his own theory about why it blew. One day it would ride again. And he could dream of a '57 Chevy with anodized aluminum in the fins. But that was more than even he could afford. Well, I never got a '57 Chevy or even a '54 Ford. But for a long time I had a lowly screaming 286. I found a couple of good garages (one called NICOL and one called CACHE), where I learned a new jargon no one at home even wanted to understand. "Turbo," "cylinder," "head." It was a world in which power and speed meant everything. I added a math coprocessor, upgraded the video, stacked the 40 meg drive. Constantly I tuned it. Stretching it to its capacity. But where could I go with all that power. All I needed to do was run Word Perfect and Telix. Still every month something new. Over and over it crashed as I pushed it beyond to do more and more. And then I heard about a new highway. . . an information superhighway. And for that I needed power. But I couldn't afford that '57 Chevy either. So I found my pawnshop 386. And I souped it up too. Windows for Work Groups, 32 bit disk and file access, Chameleon, a SLIP connection for full access to the internet. Its carried me to Israel and China, from Germany to Japan. Its still a little slow off the mark, a 28,8 modem would be nice. Netscape can make it crash. But then, I have had lots of experience with crashes. You don't have to have the latest and the fastest to go a long way. I don't really need that Pentium. Really, I can wait a while and get a P-6 when the prices come down. Believe me!! (But, when, WHEN!! will my WIN95 preview disks arrive?). Working on computers is a lot like working on cars...only you don't get so greasy. Len@LGrossman.com LGrossman.com Copyright Leonard Grossman 1995, 2003 P.S. Since writing "The Corner Garage," my Win95 Preview has arrived...and indeed I have crashed a couple of times. More details in a future update from "The Corner Garage.