The Club

Does anyone remember The Club? Not the song, not the movie, not even the Sega video game, but the anti-theft steering wheel lock. This thing was mad popular in the 90s, especially in urban areas. It was a long metal rod with hooks on each end, usually coated in a bright-colored plastic to draw attention to itself (and its patents pending no less). It would hook across a steering wheel and lock into place with a key. The idea was if it was installed correctly, its protruding length and shape would prevent the wheel from turning all the way around, rendering it unable to be stolen and effectively driven away. 

Just look at this thing.

Every time you wanted to drive your clubbed car, you would have to unlock it, retract it and throw it on the passenger-side floor. And being a giant metal rod, this thing was pretty heavy. Not to mention you would have an extra key on your keyring now that you’d have to lug around and remember you even have. If someone needed to drive your car you had better remembered to give them your Club key!

Again this was most popular in areas that required you to feel that your car could be jacked at a moment’s notice. Stopping at CVS for that toilet plunger you thought you had when you needed it? Don’t forget to install your Club! Need to change your parking spot so the metermaid doesn’t get on your ass? Unhook, drive 10 feet, park then rehook! After a while it almost becomes second nature, until you realize what the hell you’re actually doing.

What gets me the most is the pompousness of it: a large day-glo eyesore that attracted attention more than it tried to deter it. It screams, “I know you want to steal my car but I’m going to make it difficult for you to do it!” Note I said difficult and not impossible, because hacking a Club is as easy as picking a lock. And since they already picked the lock of the car door to get in, the thieves are already halfway there. Back to the pompousness though. Not only is the car owner begging to get broken into by installing that wretched thing on his wheel, but he’s actually making us believe that his car is one we want to break into. As if he’s got the most desirable car in the world, he already made the decision for us that we want to steal it, and he’s already got that circumvented via a long red stick. What an ass.

So what put this 90s relic in my head, you ask? I parked next to a car last week that had a Club in the ‘steal me!’ position and the memories flooded in. Memories of my beloved deceased grandparents who Clubbed their ’92 Mercury Grand Marquis every time they parked without fail. They were lifelong Brooklyn residents and Grandpa drove until his death in 1999. 90s era, check. Sketchy neighborhood, check. Yep, they qualified to be in the Club. And for whatever reason, while Grandma still drove into the 2000s, she stopped using it. Maybe because it was getting too heavy for her to keep bothering with. Or maybe she had one too many keys on her keyring and something had to go. Or maybe she realized just how useless it was.

Though my grandparents were (barely) justified in using it then, no one is justified in using it now. When I saw that recent Club I was in one of the richest towns in the state, with certainly no danger of theft. Oh, and that car I saw it in? A beat-up Cadillac nearly as old as I am. Who the hell would want to steal that? Half of the trouble in using a Club is you have to have a car that’s actually worth something on the black market, or at least the Kelley Blue Book. You want to Club your 2013 BMW, or your Viper or any other desired car brand (I’m not really familiar with them). But even then you shouldn’t want to do it. They are far from foolproof, they’re cumbersome, and their relevance in society died along with the VHS tape.