Who Thought that 35 Years would Be So Easy?

William Sundwick

Thirty-five years later, I’ll admit to having some trepidation about the future back then. I suspect my wife-to-be shared at least that much!

Winter, 1982-83. We were planning our January 15 wedding. Lots of thinking and work. We were about to embark on a great adventure. Our 1983 frame of reference was rather optimistic, considering what some were predicting. Still embroiled in the Cold War, but the West had the upper hand, still recovering from a recession, but a mild one by most standards. Anyway, we were not invested in Wall Street. Both my career and wife’s showed promise in the federal government. I was a full-time grad student, on sabbatical, seeking a career change (secretly). We had plans to start house shopping despite mortgage interest rates as high as 13 percent -- we each owned property, if only one-bedroom condos, in Arlington, VA.

But, we both knew we could handle increased responsibilities – after all, we were in our thirties! And,

the wedding and reception that cold, snowy January evening in DC went well, we thought. Our social obligations had been fulfilled. Our family and friends were all very supportive – they had confidence in us! That first night at the Tysons West Park Hotel came as a huge relief. The rest of our life was about to start.

The next morning, off we drove into the fresh snow in my Dodge Omni. Front wheel drive was a novelty for me then, made me think I had a “snow car.” We headed for Virginia hunt country -- out west on US 50. Middleburg was only an hour away, even in the snow. We had two nights reserved at the historic Red Fox Inn.

It seemed an ideal romantic honeymoon getaway, especially since neither of us were in position to travel very far – and, the weather. But, on the second day, my bride got sick. It must have been a stomach virus. Not very romantic! On the third day, heading home, I got the same virus. Equally

unromantic.

Thus ended our honeymoon in Virginia hunt country. But our life together began, nevertheless. The first year we lived in my condo in Fairlington Villages, while I was still a grad student. I was a kept man. In 1984, we bought the house where we still live, in a North Arlington neighborhood largely intact from its original development in the 1940s through 1970s. Brick colonials like ours characterized the “old” part of the neighborhood, split-foyers and split-levels characterized the 1950s and 1960s, A-frames on slabs the 1970s. The East Falls Church Metro station was on schedule to open the following year, but its effect on real estate values still lay in the future -- and, only a nine-block walk from our house!

The house seemed huge in 1984, compared to our one-bedroom condos. Eight (tiny) rooms! In it, two sons would grow up – the first born in 1985, his brother in 1988.  I had returned to my old job in January 1984, writing off the investment in a second M.S. degree as a risk whose reward remained to be seen (embedding IT professionals within organization charts was an emerging fashion, but not so much in the federal government). My wife continued to support me – so it seemed -- with her higher salary.

For the next 30 years it would be all about the kids. Through toddlerhood, preschool, school years, sports, academics, college applications, college success, career choice. Finding mates! Even a grandchild in 2015. Although we needed more space, we built on only when the oldest was entering his senior year in high school, and then again when the youngest was in college. Our financial circumstances had prevented action sooner, easing only as we approached empty nesthood. Within a year after the youngest graduated from college we became true empty nesters. Both sons live in the area, but in their own housing.

Finally, it was time to consider retirement, at least for me. By 2015, I would cut the cord from my long-time employer (The Library of Congress). Stalwart wife has not (same agency). But, I was no longer a kept man! Fortunate in so many ways, I should seek a tone of humility, but can’t resist a bit of self-satisfaction in my “golden years.”

Thirty-five years is a long time. It is half of my life. It’s time to think about things – have I given as much as I’ve received? And, who could be an impartial judge, anyway? Surely, we’ve “gone the distance” by now. We both know where we’ve been, and can look clear-eyed at where we are. The future will take care of itself. The kids are never done, of course, but any further development for them is going to be up to them! Do we have a name for this place we’re at? Bliss? Resolution? Harvest? Whatever we call it, I’d say the reward is palpable.

Well, the time came this year for the great return. I made reservations for an anniversary stay at the Red Fox Inn back in Middleburg. It is still there, looking much as it did 35 years ago. The same antique furniture (it could be different antique furniture, I wouldn’t remember).

The flat screen HD TVs were new, but the hunt country fare on the menu at the Red Fox Tavern looked very familiar – but heavy for my current taste. The selection of Virginia wines, and
complimentary gourmet chocolates in the room, were intended to promote local Loudoun County businesses.

No snow this time around, but it was cold. We managed the drive out US 50 in the same hour that it took in 1983. This time, we made it on our Chevy Volt’s battery charge -- no gas used until return trip! The view along the route has changed, however. Loudoun County is not the same as it was 35 years ago. One doesn’t leave suburban development now until Aldie, still a quaint 19^th century rural village, but with a large banner across its only commercial buildings proclaiming the project to “Save historic Aldie!” Middleburg, too, maintains a similar ambience. 

Although the Red Fox Inn and Tavern has an image to preserve, some of the other local businesses show more panache, like the Julien Café and Sandwicherie with its Help Wanted sign out front advertising “Norwegians Only Apply!” -- echoing the latest Washington buzz. Visiting and wine tasting at Cana Vineyards in Aldie reminded me of a similar experience at a Temecula, CA winery two years ago. Both were relatively new businesses (Cana only five years old).

The view from the wine tasting room to the hills beyond had the same feel, except the Temecula hills were higher.

This time nobody got sick. We returned home to continue our anniversary celebration with Monday dinner at our traditional anniversary haunt – the Panjshir Afghan restaurant in Falls Church, in a new location since last year.

Wife began her work week refreshed, and we both awakened to a 35-year job well done. We are the better for it. And, I’m confident, the world is a better place, too.

WaPo article supports argument from my December post: "My Struggle with Facebook Addiction" -- FOMO is a big deal, here focusing on students, but the rest of us, I maintain, can also be so afflicted!

Last year's post on "The Future" page: "Mysteries of the Internet" dealt with ICANN and international control, now Trump administration appears to want to undo that ... with new pick for NTIA head

  Speed Culture: Why?

William Sundwick

Origins of Speed

In the earliest days of the automobile, the “horseless carriage” era, all cars were mechanical curiosities. They were playthings for the rich and adventurous. None were particularly reliable, but many startups sought to sell something new and different to a privileged few.

When the Model T became a true mass market phenomenon by the 1920s, a consolidation began in the auto industry. Soon, there were far fewer choices in a price range that many people could afford. Mechanical reliability became the norm. As the number of choices for affordable, reliable transportation diminished, and sales, especially of the “T,” continued to grow, a large supply of spare parts, easy to fabricate, entered the market. Another big thing characterizing the 1920s in America was Prohibition. It created an unanticipated new market for bootleggers to build cars that could outrun the police on country roads, an “outlaw” market.

Then, the Depression hit. Prohibition was repealed, but the popular glamorization of the bootlegger’s “souped up jobs,” modifications to older low-priced Fords or Chevrolets (since nobody could afford new ones) created a fad among a certain set of young men, in California at first. Ford added fuel to the fire by introducing a daring new design in 1932 – a V8 engine that would sell in the same price

class as previous Model A four cylinders, and would match the performance (i.e., straight line acceleration and top speed) of its main competitor, the six-cylinder Chevrolet. The Ford “flathead” V8 became the basis for an entire culture of speed and amateur racing on Southern California’s dry lakebeds.

The “after-market” in parts for Model T and Model A four-cylinder engines was already established. Some of those same shops easily shifted to V8 “speed parts.” Better still for the new racing hobby, Model T and A chassis’ could easily accommodate the V8. Bingo – “hot rods” were born! 

Bodies (usually roadsters) were stripped to the barest essentials. Fenders, seats, tops, all sacrificed to lighten the load that the modified engine would move. The cars were still drivable from communities like Burbank, Glendale, and Pasadena to the dry lakes where they would race. But these cars were often unsafe to drive on public roads and streets. Especially, since they encouraged breaking speed limits.

NHRA Solves Social Problem

As hot rod top speeds approached 100 mph, public outcry grew louder about safety. The typical American disdain for idle young men (unemployed, under-educated, easy targets for gang recruitment) played a role. Street racing became a social problem. Finally, in 1951, the National Hot Rod Association was formed, founded by Wally Parks, and set about opening officially sanctioned and regulated “dragstrips” around the country, often on abandoned airfields disused since the end of World War II. Returning veterans added respectability to the hobby, many having gained mechanics’ skills during their service. With the help of the NHRA, drag racing became professional.

Early dry lakes racing had been organized and officiated by the Southern California Timing Association, and the standard ¼ mile straight line course (1320 ft.) was established by them. The NHRA, however, invented the “Christmas tree” light system to control staging between two

competitors in adjacent lanes. Another NHRA institution – various classes – became the basis for dizzying complexity in the sport. One could game the system by qualifying in the most advantageous class. But, full exploitation of this tactic didn’t come until the 1960s.

Detroit Discovers Speed

Cued to the popularity of the “speed culture,” Detroit continued development of mass-produced V8 engines from the late ‘40s on. In the 1950s, America was becoming an automobile obsessed country – especially for young, new drivers. The growth of suburbia and improving highway infrastructure also facilitated a motorized transformation of society, everywhere except in central urban cores.

In 1955, Chevrolet introduced its “small block” V8, soon eclipsing the old flathead Fords in everybody’s hot rods – it outperformed even the most “souped up” Fords due to its efficient 

overhead-valve cylinder head design. Even straight “out of the crate” from the factory, the horsepower of these relatively light weight engines left the best rebuilt Fords in the dust (in fairness, there was one after-market supplier of overhead valve cylinder heads for the “flattie,” starting about the same time – Zora Arkus-Duntov, a Belgian immigrant and Le Mans race driver, who had been instrumental in the development of the Chevrolet V8).

By 1958, the NHRA had begun racing its “stock” classes and “super stock” classes (the latter were factory produced high performance cars sold in limited numbers through ordinary Chevrolet, Ford, or Dodge dealers). This created what was known at the time as a “horsepower race” among the Detroit manufacturers – they were competing among themselves for the highest possible SAE (Society of Automotive Engineers) horsepower rating of their production engines, presumably as a spur to greater sales. All these engines were large displacement V8s. Indeed, volumetric dimensions of the eight combustion chambers were probably the main determinant of horsepower rating in those days. Other design features like multiple carburetors, higher compression ratio, intake and exhaust manifold shape, were relatively minor contributors to raw power.

Soon, a new breed of “stock” automobile emerged from Detroit – the “muscle car.”  This took the existing engine design technology (basically, bigger displacement) and placed it in a lighter body. The

archetype muscle car was the Pontiac GTO, introduced as a 1964 model. By 1968, all domestic manufacturers had a competitor – a mid-size sedan packing a very large V8 originally intended for much heavier vehicles. At about the same time, a new class of car, even smaller, was also introduced, the Ford Mustang. While not originally fitted with Ford’s largest V8s, the transition came soon enough – with the help of the NHRA. Why not something even smaller and lighter than those mid-size sedans to house the big engines? “Pony cars” (Mustangs, Camaros, Firebirds, Barracudas, Challengers, Javelins) became the new muscle cars.

Speed Dies and is Reborn

Then came the 1970s. First it was the Feds – new emissions requirements forced on Detroit automakers (and imports) effectively strangled the horsepower output of all engines beginning about 1971. Although not connected to the new emissions requirements, manufacturers agreed to use SAE “net” horsepower ratings rather than “gross.” This measured engine output through the exhaust system rather than at the flywheel. The alleged “high performance” offerings from all domestic makers lost up to 100 hp overnight! Since 1972, only SAE net ratings have been advertised. As the ‘70s continued, foreign policy also had a big effect on the auto market in the United States. There were two successive “oil shocks” – in 1973 following the Yom Kippur War, and again in 1980, following the Iranian revolution. American dependence on Mideast oil became painful to all – but, none more than the high- performance enthusiast. The third blow to the speed culture was the insurance industry. In the mid-seventies, they collaborated in raising rates for what they deemed “high performance” cars. These situations made it uneconomic (in the case of emissions, illegal) to do anything meaningful about boosting performance of your daily driver, and Detroit followed suit. Muscle cars died a slow and agonizing death. The “GTO” badge, for example, became trim only, divorced from engine choice, and disappeared completely by 1975.

Unforeseen at the time, however, the whole world of performance – yes, horsepower --- would rise again from the ashes, like a phoenix. Starting in the nineties, and continuing today, new technologies built around digital EEPROM Engine Control Units (ECUs), fuel injection, turbochargers or superchargers, cheaper gas, and much safer cars (thanks to those Feds!) have all contributed to a renaissance. And, not least, a new class of young drivers, including recent immigrants, who embody some of the same socio-economic characteristics as those depression-era California dry lakes racers. They may be idle, without much formal education, but gifted with a spirit of competition and a cult of ingenuity. They’re more likely to choose small imports nowadays, rather than “Detroit iron,” but the impetus seems to be the same.

What is that impetus? Cars are both economic necessity and ego extension (Freudians might call them phallic symbols). They express desire for social status, despite lack of financial resources. Also, that natural thrill of competition, and creativity through mechanical ingenuity, all contribute to the “speed culture.”

Drag racing has become international. In Australia, it’s almost on equal footing with the U.S. Sweden, Finland, and the U.K. also have active groups with organizing associations. There is a vigorous after-market in bolt-on turbochargers and superchargers, and compatible replacement ECUs with programming kits. 

Not to miss an opportunity, Detroit has once again jumped into the fray. What’s with the 2018 Dodge Challenger SRT Demon? The newly introduced factory drag machine from FCA (Fiat Chrysler Automobiles) loads a race built 6.2-liter Chrysler hemi V8, with supercharger, rated at 840 hp (SAE net)! Far removed from the 300 or so horsepower (SAE gross) of the 1950s super stocks. The car is “street legal,” which means that it can legally be driven to and from the dragstrip -- much like those early dry lakes hot rods. But, its real purpose is to win drag races. It is clearly optimized for ¼ mile acceleration. As such, it is touted as the fastest production car ever manufactured by a volume auto-maker. Under ten seconds for that quarter-mile run, accelerates 0-60 mph in 2.3 seconds, exerting a force on driver of 1.8g. Something like NASA!

And, you can buy it for a mere $86,000 right off the floor of your local Dodge dealer (still ~$6000 less than a standard 370 hp Porsche 911). FCA plans to make 3000 of them. Why? Because it thinks it can sell that many!

Just because #MeToo not in news lately, don't forget the larger struggle -- against the institutions of patriarchy. It's a continuing political and social struggle!