Once you hit 17, it’s a right-of-passage to “get some wheels.”

Back in my day, families had one vehicle, and in our family it got Dad to work and us to church. In all types of weather we were obligated to secure transportation to a piano lesson or athletic event.

“Carburetor heads” were friends who could tear an engine apart and put it back together, and also provided transportation for us.

Jim Ziegler transported me to band practice on his Honda 50. Parents like Paul MacMurdo and Frank Sabatino got us to basketball and baseball practice. If this wasn’t an option you walked or “hoofed it” or you “thumbed it” -- better known as hitch-hiking; not an option these days.

In tomorrow’s column, we’ll share the story of Slats Kotuby and a wintry ride.