Driving around town was entertaining if just a bit disconcerting. The car rode hard over bumps, and had a tendency to follow irregularities in the pavement that were any larger than, say, a spaghetti noodle. Uncooked. If the roadway was grooved or had ripples as in the case of University Avenue, the car would either pull to one side or the other, or would just jump over to wherever the anomaly pointed it. Number One Son experienced this on his first outing with the car and looked over at me, mystified. “It does that,” I said nonchalantly. “Just one of those perks.”
On another weekend drive we took a narrow side road in far southern Wisconsin and came up behind an enclosed Amish buggy headed slowly up a hill. Not wanting to spook the horses I took it easy on the throttle and gave the buggy a wide berth. In the left seat was a teenage boy who leaned out the narrow door with an ear-to-ear grin and gave us an enthusiastic thumbs-up. We had seen a few admiring glances but this was the most satisfying. Approval from a guy who really knew horsepower!
We also learned a couple of the concepts I like to call "Corvettiquette." First of all, getting in or out of the car is different from the usual method used for, say, a Plymouth Voyager. After opening the door, you have to turn away from the car and plant your hindquarters firmly on the seat, then swing your legs and arms in while ducking your head to make a graceful entry. Exit is the reverse of entry but if you're over 50, considerably more arduous. Second, anytime you're driving you must be watchful for other Corvette drivers and give them "the wave." It may be a subtle nod of the head or lifting of all fingers from the wheel, or a more salutory wave, but in either case it's pretty much expected, and in our case also gratefully received.
Our shakedown run was a weekend trip to Tennessee for a songwriter’s retreat. The South in mid-July can be brutal but the air conditioning worked fine, the car had shown no tendency to overheat and all systems were go. The car was well packed, being most suited to a couple of smallish suitcases and an 8-1/2" x 11" sheet of paper, but The Missus had somehow shoehorned my acoustic guitar and a couple of larger bags into the cargo bay. How she did it I'll never figure out. In any case, it was on this trip that I discovered one of the Things You Should Never Do To A Corvette…
Somewhere between Nashville and Knoxville we stopped for gas, and I flipped the phono jack out of my MP3 player as I usually did at stops. Prior to this we had charged our cell phones and, that being accomplished, I had yanked the charger out of the cigarette lighter. Unknown to me the phono jack bounced into the lighter socket and blew a fuse. Since it was just the sound system and we were driving with the windows down, looking for a jewelry store up ahead that we absolutely had to go see, the lack of air conditioning or dash lights went unnoticed. At least until the next morning.
