"It's the Jeep curse again, Dad," whispered my highly observant son. He was commenting on one major problem that comes up when owning a Jeep that is nearly 60 years old. The problem isn't the limited top speed or lack of creature comforts, all to be expected on a vehicle that is nearly old enough to draw Social Security. The trouble is how this old Jeep acts like a magnet to draw curious and long-winded bystanders. The attraction is so strong, the effect is worse than an open bar at a magazine editors' convention.
If ever there was a perfect situation for an invisibility device, it would be when I'm around town in my Jeep. I don't mean for the Jeep itself, as being invisible in traffic isn't the brightest idea. Rather, I need some method to make myself disappear when I'm stopped and somebody approaches with that "must talk about Jeep" zombie-like expression. I can even predict how most of these conversations will run. Typically, the admirer mentions, "I used to have a Jeep like that." My Jeep is a '48 CJ-2A with the stock flathead four-cylinder engine. The other Jeep might have been a '78 CJ-7 with a big V-8, but that difference means nothing when the tractor beam of faulty memory locks onto me. I've tried feigning my own death to escape these conversations, but my eventual need to breathe will foil an otherwise perfect escape, even if the chatter never stopped.
On rare occasions, I'll pick up one little clue telling me that a particular bystander knows a little something about Jeep history. "Willys" is prominently stamped on my CJ-2A's hood and windshield frame. If you know how it was originally pronounced, you'll have my attention. Over the years, the pronunciation of the poor word has morphed into Will-eez. Way back when, the company's name was pronounced Will-iss. If you're still a bit fuzzy at phonetics for deciphering the original pronunciation, think back to a young Gary Coleman asking, "Whatchu talking 'bout, Willis?"
Not that I'll ever get fully used to it, but I've become somewhat numb to the pronunciation Will-eez. This sounds like there's a person named Willy, with an apostrophe and the letter "s" tacked on the end to show he owns a Jeep. I can handle this mispronunciation, but let's lay down the law about adding an unnecessary apostrophe to the spelling. Over and over again, I'll see online ads listing a "Willy's Jeep" for sale. That apostrophe can really ruin keyword searches, much to my frustration. So guys, be careful to use apostrophe's only where they belong, OK?
This whole subject of manufacturer names raises a very important issue. Basically, it doesn't matter what the paperwork might say, because one should never, ever argue with anybody at the Department of Motor Vehicles. Actually, it's OK to argue with other customers, but never with the employees. Keep in mind that no child ever says, "I'd like to process forms at the DMV when I grow up." A standard-issue kid dreams of becoming an astronaut, ballerina, or sport star. Nobody wants to be a clerk in a government bureaucracy. A good rule of thumb throughout life is to never argue with somebody who is already in a bad mood. By nature, this includes anybody who's been on the DMV career path for more than approximately 15 minutes. So if the paperwork for your old Jeep says something like Willy's or Willies, just smile and sign your check.
While we're discussing vehicle names, owning a Jeep does offer one unexpected bonus. Thanks to the manly cachet of the Jeep name, there's no need to whisper or lower your head in shame when the counterman at the parts store asks, "What type of vehicle?" To avoid embarrassment in such a public forum, I refuse to own any vehicle that sounds like a part of the female anatomy. Hence, I'll never need to ask for Volvo parts. I'd also suggest avoiding any vehicle with a name that could be confused for a medical condition. It's not difficult to imagine a doctor prescribing penicillin for a case of Daewoo. Likewise, mention Daihatsu and one can expect gesundheit in response. Pity the poor Suzuki owner who has a problem with his Esteem. An Acura owner isn't immune, as he might have to ask for something for his Vigor. Jeep owners can state what they're driving without worry of embarrassment. Just be ready to bolt for the door when the guy behind you says, "I used to have a Jeep like that."-Dr. Vern