Tuesday, May 14, 2013

The doors mobile... my first car!






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Welcome everyone to entry #1


This story finds me in my teenage years describing some of the nutty things I did with the very first car I owned.
You "doors" fans will appreciate my ride.


Well, here goes.


Relax, sit back, take a sip, and let someone else do the heavy lifting for a change!
Cheers... tommy


Oh... and don't forget to look for the "Labels" at the end of each entry or over to the right of the page. By clicking on that it will present you with all of the entries that fall within the label title.

It's a really neat way to group entries together!
I'm going to keep them simple...









Highway Star


My first car. Fuck yeah, baby!


I bet all of you out there have been through everything that you’re about to read. Well, most of it anyway. Okay, well maybe you haven’t even come close to any of this at all.



Lets find out.


Either way, it really doesn’t matter who you are, what you drove, or how you drove it, because crazy things did happen out there when you first hit the open road. You have to agree with me on that, right? And, of course some of those things happened to yours truly.


So, okay, maybe I initiated about 99.9% of them myself, but they still happened.


My first babygirl came into the world as a sleek, brand new, shiny Pontiac Tempest, and went out as a beat up, painted on,
beer smellin’ hunk-a-junk.
Oh, what a disaster.


It all began with my nice, old, never-bothered-anyone-in-her-life neighbor. She was the original owner of my first car
and she very rarely drove it.


It had like, one, mile on the odometer.


Alright alright, maybe a little more than one. It was more like twenty thousand or so, but regardless, it was still a real cherry. My poor neighbor. Thank goodness she wasn’t around to see her baby get the shit kicked out of it!


Well, now wait a minute here. I wasn’t the first person in my family to get their hands on the car. That distinction belonged to
my older brother Joey.


He was the first to dull the shine and give it it’s first, well, let’s just say, massage. Okay, dent! Along with smashed headlights, broken taillights, and other assorted ailments
that were soon to follow.


The car itself was really way too cool. It was blue with a black vinyl top, and black interior. The nose of the car was, well, it was kinda missing. Somewhere along the way it fell off,
I guess.
Thanks, Joe... LoL


The headlights seemed like they were aligned by Marty Feldmen. Both of them pointed in every fuckin’ direction but towards the road. I could spot a bat in mid-flight soaring through the night sky, but I couldn’t see the damn road
two feet in front of me.


It made night driving that much more adventurous, as if being a 16 year old behind the wheel for the first time
wasn’t enough adventure.


Having those two tons of steel on wheels barreling down the roadway was about all I could handle at this point. So headlights would
have helped no doubt.


Then there was the red tape that covered the driver’s side taillight. Since the plastic covering wasn’t there, I needed to do something. What? Fix it you say?


Uumm, lets see... spend my hard-earned money on beer and assorted delicacies, or on a piece of stupid fucking red plastic.
Not much thought
was needed on that one, huh?


So, I guess by the time the car was passed down to me it wasn’t in perfect condition, but hey whose first car was right?


I remember taking it to school. Man, was that great! I walked to school every muthafucking year of my life up to that point. So taking the car was like taking a magic carpet ride.


All of a sudden, hangin’ out with my friends and cutting class had a whole new meaning. No longer did we have to remain in close proximity to the school, oh no! We now had the ability
to travel abroad.


Cut class, drive to the park. Cut class, drive to Burger King. Cut class, go to the store. Cut class, cut class, cut class……… okay, so maybe the car had nothing to do with us cutting class. We were going to do that anyway.


But now at least we could do it in style.


Having a car also gave us the opportunity to see our favorite rock bands play
at all of the local rock clubs in the area.
Which was the Tri-State area consisting of New York, New Jersey and Connecticut.


I lived in Staten Island, New York at the time.


Driving to and from these clubs on the weekends was always an adventure. I don’t know how we made it through
some of those wacky nights.


I remember driving home from this one particular club, called the Century Inn on Staten Island. I was with my friend Sal that night.


Well, this was back in the days when no one really enforced drunk driving. Not that I was drunk or anything, Mom, but I do remember having one, or fifteen beers that night!


Anyway, have you ever seen those little round reflectors attached to some kind of poles alongside the highway? They would stick out of the ground about 3 or 4 feet, and usually they were about 20 to 30 feet apart.


Did you ever wonder
what those poles were made of?


No?


Well, that night, unfortunately, we did. And guess what they were made of?


Nope, not wood. Ut aah, not some reinforced plastic either. Nope, not even some kind of hardened rubber. So what’s left?


Fucking steel, that’s what!
Steel fucking rods.


Man it was so funny.


Hey Sal, what’ta ya think thooooose reee-flector pole dings are made of?


Like he was in any condition
to give an intelligent answer.


Uuuuhh, I dunno.
Sharp as a fuckin’ bowlin’ ball that Sal.


I then summoned up my curiosity gene and triumphantly announced...


"Wellllll, let’s fuckin’ find out!


Sounding as if I was a scientist seconds away from finding the meaning of life or something.
We were so smashed.


And so, I looked around to make sure no other cars were close by, and then violently veered off onto the shoulder. Man, did you know that when you’re driving at a really really fast rate of speed, that 20 to 30 foot increments come really really… Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!………………….........fast!


Sooo what’ta ya dink Sal?"


Uuuuhh, I dunno!


Well, I slowed the car down and came to a stop. We both hopped out and, okay, well, we didn’t exactly hop out. We more or less poured ourselves outta the car, and sloshed our way around to the front,
where we found our answer.


We looked down at the reinforced steel bumper and saw a bunch of slice marks in it. We couldn’t believe it! After viewing this
carnage of steel, I calmly said...


Hooooooly shit!
I guess they were fuckin’ steel huh?


Brilliant deduction on my part!


I mean those poles sliced right through a steel bumper like a hot knife through butter. Could you imagine if I did this today with one of those flimsy rubber bumpers that they’re using now.


How dangerous was this stupid stunt? I get goose bumps whenever I think about this kind of shit we did as teens. Things always seem so innocent at the time you’re actually doing it, don’t they?


When I wasn’t slicing my car to bits, I was busy reinventing the look of it.  Once upon a time, this was a beautiful, brand new, shiny Pontiac Tempest, driven by a nice old lady to church on Sunday, just like in the movies.


And then, enter Mondello number one, and the initial deflowering. And now, it was about to be transformed into the door’s Mobile
by Mondello number two!


That’s right, the fuckin’ doors’ Mobile bitches!


This was to celebrate one of my favorite rock bands, The doors! You see, I had a brilliant idea of taking some oil-based paint and creating a doors mural on the trunk of the car.
It was by far my greatest hour!


Why?


Well, because it came out incredibly fuckin’ awesome, that’s why!

Tommy Mondello and the Doors mobile day before Navy boot camp

The Doors mobile! Staten Island, New York 1981

Tommy Mondello at The Factory rock club to see Crystal Ship play
How awesome is that!!
I began painting it on the service road by Victory Blvd on Staten Island.
Then it began to rain so I drove a few blocks over
where my friend Michael's girlfriend Patty lived.
And finished it in her garage!
Do you see the foam "The Stones" wedged up against the windshield.
And that yellow square in the rear window was my copy of
No One Here Gets Out Alive
which came out in 1980.


Yeah, this car had come a long way baby. It was the most unique car throughout all of Staten island. Doors fans came out of the woodwork to give me the thumbs up
while out on the road.


But, then again, it couldn’t have been that fuckin’ great because that stupid trunk
never did get me laid!


Sure, free beers, thumbs up, high fives, and many many cheers, but not one girl saw it and said, “Stop right there! I gotta have you right here and now doors’ Mobile dude! Here's my wet sloppy pussy, it's all yours!”


So no matter how great the doors were, it seems that they did have their limitations.


Maybe if I looked like Jim Morrison it might have worked out differently. But no.
There would be no doors mobile pussy for poor Tommy Mondello.


So many things happened to me with this car, as I’m sure did with you and yours. Wasn’t it so cool driving solo for the very first time?


C’mon man!


It was truly our first real taste of freedom
as young adults.


The car also gave us the ability to run away from our problems, for a little while at least. Or even to create a few of them if we wanted. It was a chance to show our parents
how responsible we could be.


It really was the beginning of the end
of our innocence.


Things would never ever be the same once we pushed that key into the ignition, and started that car for the very first muthafucking time. Awesome!


It’s much the same way today in that the computer has changed so many of our lives forever. Your life changed the second you heard the modem’s crackle and hiss, as you logged onto the Internet for the first time.


So okay, I’m fuckin’ old. You youngsters probably don’t even know what a modem is!
Ask your parents... LoL


But the day you first drove by yourself was probably one of the coolest times ever, during your growing up process. This was finally a responsibility that you didn’t mind
having thrust upon you!


You tell me the first time that you were driving down the highway, tape deck roaring, (old... remember!?) windows wide open, and singing at the top of your lungs,
wasn’t the greatest feeling ever!


I mean not even the thought of having a thought, entered your mind.


Just you, beers, miles of endless blacktop, The doors, and the wind blowin’ through your hair! Oh, what a fuckin’ time, man!


What... a fuckin'... time!


Try to tell me that that memory isn’t deeply etched into your fuckin’ soul! All you have to do is substitute The doors with your favorite band or singer, and you are right there muthafucka!!! Right there!


Can’t you feel that fuckin’ wind just slappin’ you in the face? C’mon, you know it was an awesome feeling. I think I feel a little wind burn on my face right now from just talking about it for goodness sake. My throat is even feeling a bit raw from that so-called singing
I thought I was doing.


Yeah, man, now that’s a cool memory!


Truly, at one time or another, each and every one of us has been……… a Highway Star!



What was your first car like?



And how did that first time make YOU... feel??