Oil by the case

There are car people – those who talk of cubic centimeters, cams, suspensions, torque, etc., and who can recite all the variables for different cars, and who can recognize a particular make and model simply from the taillights at night – and then there are people like me.

I love driving and have done so in every state and on four continents. My greatest escapes generally involve getting behind a wheel and pointing my vehicle down a road, often with little notice, sometimes without a firm destination in mind.

However, I develop little relationship with the vehicle itself.

Little … but not none.

Take for instance my first car, a 1964 Dodge Dart.

Allow me to interject here an explanation. From my mid-junior high school years until after high school, both my brother and I only worked at our father’s grocery store. We were never paid for hours worked, were not on a set “allowance,” but our needs and wants were taken care of. Daddy provided us with a car (one to share, of course) and even running around money. He was always a first-class horse trader, swapping everything from antiques to cars and even, yes, horses, so we never knew what we might be driving.

This article on hotcars.com says, “The 1964 Dodge Dart GT is a nearly perfect American classic compact with gorgeous looks and enticing driving dynamics.”

That being said, I doubt I was driving a GT model. More likely, it was the entry-level Dart 170. No, the thing that most stands out in my memory wasn’t “enticing driving dynamics” but was the push-button transmission.

On the left side of the steering wheel, on the dash, was a single row of round buttons. From the top down, they were labeled R for reverse, N for neutral, D for drive, 2 for second gear, 1 for first gear. What’s missing? Park, of course.

For park, you pushed in the neutral button and slid the neighboring knob down about three inches to lock it into place. Slide it up when you’re ready to drive again.

I’m not here to say whether the push-button transmission was good or bad … but it was distinctive. I’ve become aware that quite a few cars had them back in the day, but this is the only one I’ve driven.

My other memories about the Dart involved motor oil, which we bought by the case because the car burned through it so rapidly.

Also, it must have been missing a baffle in the oil pan because every time I braked, the large, bright red oil warning light would illuminate.

“Nearly perfect?” I’m not one to say. However, it made a perfect starter car for me more than 52 years ago.