We are a family of car nuts. I grew up in Michigan where cars were a lifestyle to say the least. Every September, when the car manufacturers would debut their new models in dealership showrooms, I was there. Car brochures where collected and studied. I could identify any American car coming or going on the road. A JC Whitney catalog had a permanent place on the floor by my bed. Getting a Hot Rod Magazine, for a birthday or Christmas, was the ultimate.
Achieving the age of 16, and obtaining the right to drive, seemed to take forever. Before arriving at the “age”, Mom on a good day, would let me “practice” driving the family 57 Ford Wagon up and down our dirt driveway. The driveway was long but never long enough. When feeling bold, the old 57 would spin its rear wheels in the gravel. The resulting noise and dust would incur Mom’s wrath, “give me the keys!! No driving for a week young man.”
I have spent a lifetime around cars – fixing them, modifying them, driving them and buying them, and selling them as a hobby. There is always something about any car to like. The old ones bring back memories. The purity of engineering and ingenuity, expressed in the building and modifying of cars, amazes me. Each car is different. Each car is, in its own right, a work of art. To have a car in your garage that you can admire, from time to time, is the best. When life gets you down, what a great escape to have your “car” waiting to give you unqualified love. She will always listen. She will be there when you need her. She doesn’t mind if you have a beer or two. She likes the same music you do, and she really likes just hanging out with other car people. If you buy one of my cars it makes room for me to get another one, that’s a win win.
Give me a call if you are interested in one. Plan to make a visit, I will give you a jack and a clean space to crawl around on.
Just in case you wonder about the pictures on the Home page. The guy on the tricycle is my Dad. He is all “decked out” in his Sunday go-to-meeting garb, to go cruising on his three-wheeler. That’s me in 1963 with my 1934 Ford Vicky, black primer and powered by a 303 Olds. That patch on the radiator was a chunk of Bondo used to stop a leak. That’s “old school”.