P.J. O’Rourke seems to be in a somewhat dour mood these days. The famed gonzo journalist is feeling the creeping effects of age, blames auto executives, unions and politicians alike for the current free-fall of American cars, and saves his biggest ire to the “Fun Suckers” that are ruining everything he loves.
Yet O’Rourke’s 14th book, “Driving Like Crazy” (Atlantic Monthly Press, 256 pages, $24 retail), will have you laughing in spite of its rampant cynicism. With the telling subtitle “Thirty Years of Vehicular Hell-Bending, Celebrating America the Way It’s Supposed to Be — With an Oil Well in Every Backyard, a Cadillac Escalade in Every Carport, and the Chairman of the Federal Reserve Mowing Our Lawn,” it shows again why O’Rourke is one of the best humor writers on the planet and why he’s sold millions of books, including the massive best-sellers “Parliament of Whores” and “Give War a Chance.”
“Driving Like Crazy” collects O’Rourke’s automotive-based articles from more than three decades, including magazines such as Automobile, Rolling Stone and Car and Driver. But it’s not just a rehash of his old material for a quick buck. O’Rourke wrote a number of new essays, plus added annotations to old articles that seemed dated or poorly written (by his own admission).
O’Rourke is best-known as a humorist and a libertarian. But he’s also an unrepentant gearhead who grew up in the auto-factory town of Toledo. When he writes about the steering response of a Land Rover Discover II or the exciting handling of 1967 Mustang he drove for a few weeks from a Rent-A-Wreck in Los Angeles, he knows (or seems to know) what he’s talking about.
Not only does O’Rourke write from a base of authority, but he does it entertainingly — whether it’s off-roading in the Baja Peninsula of Mexico, being among the first mainstream journalists from north of the Mason-Dixon line to cover a NASCAR race, embarking on a long motorcycle ride in the Midwest, and competing in the classic-vehicle California Mille (aka the Geezers’ Grand Prix).
Route 66ers will probably like “Sgt. Dynaflo’s Past Patrol,” in which O’Rourke and a buddy try to drive a 1956 Buick from Florida to Los Angeles. The journey goes through the heart of Mother Road country, but it’s not a pleasure trip. The Buick can’t get up to freeway speed, thus necessitating driving on secondary roads. It constantly breaks down because of vapor lock and a touchy radiator. Much alcohol is consumed during the trip — not so much from partying as to pass time after a breakdown. After hearing yet another “that car’ll run forever” remark from locals, O’Rourke’s exasperated pal responds that he’d “settle for tonight.”
Here’s one passage that ends up ringing true for roadies:
We’d bought a five-gallon jerry can in Tucumcari and whenever the gauge went all red we’d stop and one of us would get out and splash down the radiator while the driver gunned the engine. This would hold us for two hours, or one hour in the midday heat, or ten minutes on an uphill grade. We had no business being away from the amenities and attentions of the interstate in this car. We knew that. But we’d started out driving on the backroads because the Buick couldn’t make turnpike speed, and these little bypaths had been so quaint and charming in the primitive way, and with such quaint, charming people and so many quaint, charming places to break down in front of and buy beer in that we’d forgotten ourselves and now we were in a real piece of Americana indeed.
One of the essays from the late 1970s, “How to Drive Fast on Drugs … ” (rest of title excised because this is a family blog), now seems so dated in its live-fast-die-young ethos that O’Rourke wrote a retort 30 years later, called “How to Drive Fast When the Drugs Are Mostly Lipitor …” (remainder of title excised for space reasons). Maybe O’Rourke was embarrassed by his youthful over-exuberance. Regardless, the sequel is funny, and O’Rourke, now 61, clearly feels that growing old is a welcome bonus.
O’Rourke often rails against the “Fun Suckers” in government and society in general. Fortunately, O’Rourke — and his book — is a Fun Expander.
Recommended.