Matthew Wronka
<matt.wronka@altavista.net>
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[Last Update
2000.04.14]
Matthew Wronka <matt.wronka@altavista.net> |
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We currently have four motor vehicles that are operational, though one has had some legislative problems. Most of these stories are best told in person, but if you can't see me, this will have to do as a cheap substitute.
This is a relatively new car, without much history yet. It was purchased out in Indiana when my mother was working there. The model has been referred to as "cute." That's about it. Sorry.
It was only last Thursday that I realized what history this car has already witnessed. Though not as decorated a past as The Wronkmobile, it too has some memorable moments.
On one trip to look at college, we traveled up to northern NY state. While waiting at a toll booth to get off the Throughway, just awaiting the return of our change (my mother was driving, mind you), this crazy, reckless NY lady just keeps driving right through the back of our car.
On a more positive note, this car had utterly destroyed Varga's. Oh, sorry about that; couldn't get in the lane? What am I talking about? I don't know. Nothing worth 8 pts, I am sure.
In addition, this vehicle had suffered back-to-back debacles earlier this year. One night, someone left the window open during 70 degree weather. Not bad, right? Well, it snowed overnight. Great. The dame day, that same person left the lights on overnight preventing me from going to school the next day.
We got this automobile from my maternal grandparents after it was returned to them; it had been stolen from them. The thieves didn't do that bad of a job, for their profession that is, not for the sake of the car. Even after repair, the steering wheel has a couple of problems, such as a left turn signal that won't stop automatically and this intriguing knack to accelerate when the turn signal is turned on. Most fascinating.
The Olds is really an interesting car, though physically repulsive. The wheels and chasis are designed to minimize fuel consumption, yet they are designed in a way that makes it accelerate like mad coming down anyting but the slightest slope resulting in a need to keep the brakes depressed the entire trip.
A little piece of trivia: the first time I was stopped was because of this car. The cops/DMV had setup a sting operation on Rt 206 in Princeton for cars who hadn't been inspected. Well, the wonderful state of NJ had granted certain models and years an extra year grace period and was supposed to have sent owners of those cars a sticker to put on the winshield. Well, we had never received said sticker, so I got stopped on my way to a hockey camp I was coaching at. Oh well. There have also been at least three times where the brakes have failed completely while driving this car.
Ealier this decade (in the 1990's), my family purchased a used 12 passenger Dodge Ram van with the intent of using it to take my sister and me to our hockey games (it was quite spacious as one could guess) as well as go on family trips. Well, it takes some time to get used to driving such a behemoth as many Americans are realizing with the SUV revolution. The first memorable experience came the day after we bought it. My mother had just stopped to get gas and was about to pull out of the station. Unfortunately, she turned a little too tightly and hit the concrete pole in the island. We have, since that time, had a large dent on at the midpoint of the driver's side of the car.
The first "great" story of the Wronkmobile, and a legend in the Princeton Youth Hockey program. This took place in my second year as a bantam, my first year on the team. We - my dad, our manager Papa Joel and his son, and I - were running late for our game when we got to the last leg of the journey: a long road which, according to the directions, should take upwards of fourty-five minutes. Well, shortly down the road we saw another of our players, Mike K., pulling out of a side street (they would pull out right behind us as there was no other traffic on the road at 07:00). We got to the rink, and in the dressing room, about ten (10) minutes after we got on that road and were waiting to step on the ice as Mike K. was entering the rink.
Often recorded as one of the great stories, this one helped create the Wronkmobile's mystique, and is a legend that is always retold to new members of the hockey program.
When hockey doesn't take up all of our time, my family enjoys skiing. One of our most visited mountains is Killington, Vermont. This story takes place on our way to Killington, a little inside of New York state.
It seemed like the perfect weekend to go skiing. Beautiful powder was coming down and it was so cold that my sister and mother were bundled up while we were driving. The only problem was this putrid odor, sort of like burning oil or rubber, or something like that. We kept driving, thinking that it was this little car next to us who was giving off an awful lot of smoke, but the odor continued to worsen. Eventually, we came to a rest stop with a popular fast food chain. We parked, my mother got some food, and my dad went to check what was wrong.
Well, some colorful metaphors later and he came back in the van with some oil on him, shouting at me to come out. When I got out in the 30 below weather, we noticed that someone had set a rubber pipe a little to close to the fan belt, right on it actually, which had caused it to rupture. We spent twenty to thirty minutes in freezing weather trying to duct tape this pipe, still containting boiling hot oil, so that we could continue up to Vermont.
"I wanted to get the van checked before we left" stated my father before we headed up to Massachusetts. "Don't worry, we can get someone to look at it when we get up there" responded my mother. Oops.
We got up there alright. Our stay was fine. So where's the problem?
After our final day in Mass, we picked up the van, brought it back to where we were staying, packed, and left to go south to Jersey. We were traveling for well over an hour before we noticed the lights in the van begin to dim alittle. Immediately, we pulled off on the first exit and shortly thereafter everything went dead. Fortunately, there was a service station just down the hill from where we were forced to stop, so my mother (the only one with a AAA card) and sister walked down there while those who were left tried to figure out what was wrong. Well, during the three hour wait for AAA to drive less than a mile, we (alright, my dad) discovered that the brilliant minds in MA forgot to reconnect the alternator! Aparently, we had driven for over an hour right off the battery. By the time AAA showed up, we were unhooking the jumper cables from the car of a good Samaritan who had offered his assistance. Nevertheless, the truck guy wanted $$$ which resulted in an argument I won't relate here.
Lake Placid was home to what is considered one of the greatest miracles in the history of sports, the "Miracle on Ice" where the United States defeated the U.S.S.R., allowing them to play for (and win) the gold. It is also home to the Can/Am tournament series which my Princeton team played in.
The problem here was that we were leaking anti-freeze at an alarming rate. All we had with us was what we brought for the hockey tournament and one, small, container of anti-freeze. Our ingenious solution? We refilled all of the water bottles with water and every ten to fifteen minutes poured in some more water (that's how quickly it was leaking).
For each of the past two years, the Princeton Midgets have played an all star team from Cromwell, CT. We stayed later than most so that we could visit relatives. We thought getting lost on backroads and wierd stop sign locations would be the worst of our problems.
However, on the way home it started to snow; in truth, it was a blizzard. Now, this would make driving hazardous under any circumstances, but in addition, the van had no operational heater core. Cold? Yes. Dangerous? You bet. We drove home trying to keep any part of the front window from frosting over. Then frost turned to a solid sheet of ice and we tried looking out the side window while driving. At certain points, we were driving on blind faith, following what we believed to resemble tracks of previously successful drivers who had braved the snow and reached the Bridgewater exit.
The final installment of The Saga of the Wronkmobile (as it currently stands), and the reason it is no longer on the road.
There comes a day that drivers, especially those of old cars, fear: inspection day. A year prior, my dad had driven the van down Orchard Road, a narrow road that has over hanging trees on the side, and had a branch snap back and shatter the passenger side mirror. When we took the vehicle to be inspected, they refused to pass it because of the broken mirror. Now, New Jersey law dictates that all vehicles must have either two side mirrors, or one rearview mirror in the middle. Being the resourceful thinker that my father is (and having a thirst for destruction), he rips the broken mirror from the van . . . and it passes.
Now a year later, that dreaded time has come again. This year, however, he is told that he must have the two side mirrors because the rear window is tinted. There is a short period that people have in which they may skip the complete inspection and only have those things for which they were failed, checked. We missed by a matter of days. My dad ended up taking the van one day before the new emissions test took affect in New Jersey, and the final day of operation for the inspection station we visited.
I get a call at 9:57 A.M. I open my eyes (this is a Saturday morning) and realize that I have a game in a couple hours. I pick up the phone and hear my dad, exasperated, on the other end. His message is simple, bring my license, come meet him at the inspection station. Apparently, his problems started before he could even begin the inspections tests. As I would discover, his license and the registration for the Oldsmobile were in each other's place. The inspection people were going to fail him for this alone had they not found a multitude of other reasons, including: