The Z: My First

Everyone remembers their first car. Maybe not the one with which they learned to drive, but the first one that they picked out and paid for. Mine was a forest green Ford Ranger pick-up; 2-door, 4-cylinder. I will forever kick myself for not buying the powder blue 1978 Mercedes sitting right next to it, but at the time I was determined to be a responsible grown-up, ergo, I bought the Ford.

Later, I would want to kick myself again for choosing to rebuild the little truck one month after I bought it when I collided with a deer. I could have totaled the vehicle and collected the insurance money. The Universe gave me another shot at the Merc, but no. I wanted to keep the Ford. I don't even remember what I named it.

One car whose name I will remember well as I remember the name of my first kiss (age 9, Troy Brauer, in the closet, during our parent's Bible study) is Axel; the 1980 Datsun 280 ZX. He was the first car I ever worked on as a mechanical person.

It started with a starter. If you've ever had one go out on your car, you know that distinctive c-c-c-click--click... with no vroom-vroom. I found a new starter online and had to get an 18-inch breaker bar to jolt loose some bolts that had not been turned in thirty years, but the rest was easy like a Sunday morning.

I was so proud of myself. Something was not working. I diagnosed the problem, replaced a part and it worked. I fixed something. The glory was short-lived as I bragged about my accomplishment to the dudes at school.

"What, you found the two bolts that hold it and stuck a new starter on? Big effin' deal."

Okay, so replacing a starter ain't so hard. What about the ignition coil and condenser? Still basically a plug-and-play operation. Unhook old part, replace with new one. Just don't get the polarities reversed when reattaching the wires. I needed something more - a bigger victory. Lucky for me, the Z was happy to oblige with persistent mechanical problems.

I replaced all the vacuum hoses, the flexible fuel lines, fuel filter and air filter. I even fixed the windshield washer system - that's never worked during our ownership. I watched former A&P Mechanic and family friend, Alan, patch weld the rusted exhaust pipes (probably damaged in the Vehiculus fallout). All of this, and still the engine would cut out randomly.

On the brink of giving up, I found a Guru Z - a guy who works on nothing but Z's. He walked to Axel with nothing but a flat head screwdriver and looked under the hood for about 10 seconds.

"Nope. Don't even start it. Bad distributor."

"Are you sure? You didn't even hear it run." Guru Z raised an eyebrow.

"$65 for a used one" he said.

"I'll take it" I said. "And one of those air intake boots if ya got it."

Photos: (top) G4 and Axel at a Love's gas station on I-20 outside of Weatherford, TX. (middle) A boxer/junkyard dog at a Z parts yard in Burleson, TX. (bottom) The old distributor and air intake boot disassembled on the dining table with my BUST magazine as a place-mat.