Get your motors running

I probably have no business writing about any topic even vaguely related to the automobile industry.

My 8-year-old, slightly rusty SUV idles so loudly I have to turn it off at bank and restaurant drive-through speakers. The back seat is so full of newspapers, I once lost a bag of groceries among them.

The dashboard is dusty, the upholstery is stained, the clock is slow and about two years ago, a chocolate fondue fountain and a large, turkey-shaped doorstop both mysteriously appeared in the hatch area.

Everything I know about how cars actually work I've learned from my dad's lectures about car care (usually delivered when my lack thereof caused a need for repair).

So the assignment to go to a Cruise Night and talk about the experience caused a bit of anxiety.

What I expected was a night stumbling my way through a cloud of testosterone-infested conversations in a language I didn't understand.

What I found at Lombard's Saturday Cruise Night was a fascinating microcosm of people more than willing to talk to me -- not just about their cars, but their lives, politics, families, jobs and love lives.

How did he do that?

Bob LoPresti's ever-present grin widens as he gently lifts his car's hood.

The Bellwood man's red 1998 Pontiac Trans Am WS6 Formula is a "labor of love," he said.

"It took me a couple of years to rebuild it, clean it and find all the parts," LoPresti said. "But it's a constant evolution. I'm always thinking about what I want to do to it next."

It's often the car's paint job that tends to catch the eye of those who wander by, he said.

It's a shiny red, highlighted by flames on the hood and sides that appear to be three-dimensional and change color in the light.

But it wasn't the paint that drew me to the car. It was the engine. It was just so … clean.

So immaculate, in fact, that the exterior paint job extends under the hood. Engine parts are adorned with sleek striping and a scene of a firebird crushing a cobra -- a tongue-in-cheek tribute to the friendly rivalry that exists between owners of Pontiacs, such as the Trans Am, and Fords, such as the Shelby Cobra, LoPresti said.

While I haven't put my head under the hood of my car since, well, ever, I can't imagine the inner workings are any more white glove-worthy than the rest of it.

How does he do it?

A lot of hard work, LoPresti said with a laugh. He spends a few hours each week cleaning the garage-kept car inside and out.

And, if the weather is suitable, LoPresti even takes the car out for a spin, although insurance restrictions limit the number of miles he can drive each year.

He even allows his 22-year-old son to drive it occasionally.

"My kids love to go cruising in it," said LoPresti, who also has an 18-year-old daughter. "That's what it's for."

The big boy toy

Back in 1975, when Chuck Sostak was a teenager, he wanted a motorcycle.

But his parents, not terribly keen on the idea, put the kibosh on it.

So he thought he'd find the next best thing: A convertible. What he ended up with was topless, but even more cool than a convertible -- a gold Volkswagen dune buggy.

"I just showed up driving it," Sostak, of Lombard, said. "My parents didn't know. My mom stopped at the end of the driveway and said 'Is that yours?' "

It was, and, more than 30 years later, still is.

Sostak has completely refurbished the car three times over the years with custom parts he designed. In fact, he did about three months worth of work on it just this past spring.

"I like doing (the work) myself," Sostak said. "It's a big boy's toy. That's the fun of owning it."

He drives less than 2,000 miles per year, he says, to car shows, Cruise Night events and even to work every now and then.

The car is always a hit, especially with children, he said.

It's a big hit with his wife Shelley, too.

"It's a great stress reliever," Shelley Sostak said. "You have a bad day, you just take it for a ride. I love it."

No car necessary

At the tender age of 5, Elizabeth Mazzolini of downstate Bethalto already has opinions about cars.

Dressed hat-to-shoes in princess garb, she played with a toy horse named Olivia as she filled me in.

She likes race cars and "the cars that bounce," but she's not terribly interested in driving a car at all when she's old enough. She's got her heart set on a four-legged mode of transportation.

"I love horses," Elizabeth said. "I'm just going to ride a horse when I grow up."

The little girl came to Cruise Night with her grandparents, Ray and Judy Mazzolini of Lombard.

They are frequent Cruise Night visitors who enjoy just walking up and down St. Charles Road, Judy Mazzolini said, because it's something to do.

"It's the only thing in town since they knocked down (the DuPage Theatre)," Ray Mazzolini joked, referring to the shuttered movie palace demolished earlier this year. "It's our only hope."

Infomercial inspiration

When Steve Krajewski of Melrose Park bought a Ronco food dehydrator 30 years ago, his father asked him just what he planned to do with it.

"I said 'I don't know. Maybe I'll make beef jerky for a living someday,' " Krajewski said.

Little did he know it was more of a prediction than a joke.

Krajewski's entrepreneurial foray into food didn't happen right away. He worked as a union carpenter for 26 years.

But when an on-the-job injury left him unable to continue doing the same type of work, he reconsidered his career options.

He decided to start his own business -- making beef jerky, of course.

In 2003 he started his company, Harley Steve's Free Ride, in his kitchen.

He gave samples to his friends, who were so enamored with the meat product they encouraged him to distribute it to a wider audience of taste buds.

So he did.

A little more than two months ago, he started producing the beef jerky in a professional kitchen in Addison.

It's made from hand-trimmed top round and a special-blend homemade marinade. It comes in three flavors: mild, hot and insane hot.

He sells the product mainly from his Web site, www.hsfreeride.com. But he also sells it and hands out samples from his motorcycle (hence the name, Harley Steve) at local events, including Lombard's Cruise Night.

"We're doing very well," Krajewski said. "Even kids like it."

The guy magnets

Beef jerky wasn't what brought Vicki Pass of Bensenville to Cruise Night.

It was the men.

"I'm single," she said. "I'm in my 50s and my kids are grown. So where do I go to meet decent, family-oriented men?"

Pass even brought along a wingman of sorts -- a toy poodle named Sabrina.

Pass also met up with her like-minded friend, Nadine Stachon of Lombard, who brought along Bella, a sweet bulldog she'd borrowed from her son for the evening.

"(Bella's) my guy magnet," Stachon said.

Stachon said she also came to do a little advertising for the newly-formed Operation: Turn DuPage Blue, an all-volunteer, grassroots organization that supports local Democrats. She wore a T-shirt emblazoned with the group's logo.

"We're getting a lot of support," she said. "A lot of people stop me to say 'nice shirt!' "

But talk quickly returned to Stachon and Pass' original reason for coming.

"I'd really like to meet some nice guy," Pass added. "I'm out breathing the fresh air and there's a full moon. You can just feel the joy."