My first car was '74 Mercury Comet. It was my mom’s car, handed down to me in 1987. I even have a picture of it:
A friend and I did a bunch of work on it before I got it painted. I drove it around like that for several months.
Anyway, the car had cruise control that didn’t work. I think it was after-market, because the controls were attached to the blinker rod, with a separate cable running down the drive shaft into the engine compartment. Since it didn’t work, I cut the cable as close as I could and removed the controls.
At some point after that I stated having a weird problem: when I started to accelerate from a stop, if I pressed too hard, the accelerator would floor on its own for several seconds. This led to a lot of harrowing situations. Like I’d be making a left turn in the rain, and suddenly the car is taking off and I’m fishtailing. Or I’m holding down the brake as the car is trying to ram the person in front of me. After several seconds, the car would let go, and everything went back to normal.
The funniest thing was when my dad and I were going to change the oil. My dad had bought these new ramps to elevate a car. He told me to drive up the ramps. So I was gingerly pressing the accelerator, but it wasn’t enough to get the car up the ramps.
Being a dumb teenager, I hadn’t mentioned this little problem to my parents, until that moment. Dad kept saying “give it more gas!” I tried to tell him that would be a problem, and finally pressed down on the pedal. Sure enough, the car launched up and over the ramps, crushing them.
Dad was pissed, then even more pissed that I hadn’t told him about this problem before. We took it to a mechanic who lived down the street from us. He quickly figured out something was catching at the “engine end” of the cruise control. He just disconnected some wire, and the problem was solved.