As a young man

Before I turned 16 I spent a lot of time walking. I guess it didnt seem that way then, but now I definetely remember it that way. I walked to work and walked pretty much everywhere else, mostly because none of my friends were older or they didnt have cars. I daydreamed of having my first car but it didnt seem all that real. Kind of like dreaming of winning the lottery. When I was finaly old enough to get my drivers permit it felt a little more real though. I passed my drivers test on the first try, eager to be out on the open road. Now I was just 16 and working at KFC so there was no way I was buying that dream car. My parents graciously let me inherit the old family car. A 1965 Dodge Dart station wagon.

Better than nothing

Ohhhhhhhh yeah. Now as you can imagine, this did not set well with me. I mean how is a high school guy supposed to pick up a date in that. In retrospect it did have a fold down back seat, but still way to embarrasing to be seen in. Maybe my parents had it planned that way. Well I did what I could, and by that I mean I painted it with a roller and put a set of fuzzy dice on the mirror. Once again, I was working at Kentucky Fried Chicken.

Oh so fuzzy

Well I saved every penny I could for the next few years, dreaming my dream of hot rods and sports cars. And one day a guy at work mentioned he was selling his nova. Mind you, I had no idea about anything car related other than where to put the gas. So he shows me this 71 nova, primer gray, jacked up in the back with classic cragers. I think I heard angels singing. Now I didnt know much but I knew that was the car for me. So I went home and destroyed the piggy bank with dreams of squeeling tires and that hot cheerleader begging me for a ride. There was nothing like sitting in that seat and starting up the engine in my new ride. It had these rediculous cherry bomb mufflers that were obscenely loud and was as close to heaven as a guy could get. Well for one day anyway. I took it on a long drive that first night and on the way home the engine blew up. And when I say blew up I mean just that. It threw chuncks of crank shaft through the pan. It seems that all that smoke coming out of the tailpipe was oil burning. Who knew. It burned through five quarts in about seventy five miles.

Try not to tear up

Simce I had sold my old car knowing I would never be seen in that thing again I was back to sneaker central. And was still walking for close to a year before another coworker mentioned he was a car guy and would show me a few things. Now I was pretty untrusting of coworkers at this point but what could it hurt. Turns out he was a great guy and showed me how to rebuild and install the engine as well as pretty much every other part of the car since the whole thing was a disaster. I did end up driving that car for many years and learned a lot from tinkering with it. I guess you could say that was the begining of my biggest hobby. I love to customize cars and I do it these days whenever I can get the time. I will say though, it would have been cheaper to just get a drug habit. :)

Better late than never