Note to the government, the police, the media, old-car enthusiasts, new-car enthusiasts, and to the general public at large: This is not a tuner car.
Okay, some background. In Ontario, where I live, all of the above regularly get into huge kerfluffles regarding tuner cars and the propensity of their drivers to engage in either planned or impromptu street races. When the heat gets hot enough, the government instructs the cops to go round up as many Hondas and Toyotas with tomato-can exhaust pipes as they can find. At one point, in the most ridiculous media stunt I think I've ever seen, two seized tuner cars were crushed by a bulldozer, with the warning that more would follow. (To the best of my knowledge, they haven't.)
So I opened my newspaper today, and found that three teenagers in my area were charged yesterday with street racing, after three vehicles tore off from a light and one of them hit a tree and landed on a fire hydrant. According to the paper, "Officers found a 1997 Chevrolet Venture minivan on its side ... about 12:10 a.m. yesterday. ... Police seized the van and two other vehicles, a 1996 Pontiac Torrent and 2006 Pontiac Grand Am."
Two of the drivers were 17, the other 18. Now, unless things have changed drastically in the many years since I was a teenager, a full-size minivan generally tends to belong not to the teenager, but to the teenager's parents. That was also the case in 2006, when a Toronto taxi driver was killed by two young men driving Mercedes-Benz cars owned by their parents. In fact, when I read about crashes caused by street racing, full-blown tuner cars don't really seem to make the list all that often. Here's a thought -- maybe it ain't the car.
Maybe parents should be asking where Junior needs to go with two tons of steel and very limited driving experience late on a Friday night. And if he doesn't have an ironclad reason, maybe he shouldn't be getting the keys.
Here's the harsh reality. Street racing is like drunk driving: we can reduce it, but we're never going to eliminate it entirely. We can crush cars, we can ban nitrous, we can tell the cops to pull over cars with little blue lights on their windshield washers, and we'll still get testosterone flowing when the light turns green and it looks like your minivan can take his minivan. We need to stop with the kneejerk reactions and work on realistic solutions that don't involve herding up the Hondas whenever a BMW hits a tree.
If you're of a certain age and grew up in southern Ontario, you probably remember the reminder on Buffalo's Channel 7 every night: It's eleven o'clock. Do you know where your children are?
Do you?
