Not some pampered trailer queen that gets hauled from show to show to protect its 32 coats of paint, but a working, road-worthy car I can actually go somewhere in. With air conditioning.
In my mind's eye — or is it the Driveway Of My Dreams? — it's black. A sedan — this is a family car, see? Cragar SS rims. Red line tires. Red leatherette interior. Mid-50s Chevrolet steering wheel. The top's not chopped, at least not much. The motor's pretty straight and possibly not exposed. The CD player's hidden in the glovebox. And did I mention it's got A/C?
Don't think I'll have exhaust pipes running along with sides lake-style. Burnt the Hell outta my leg as a kid getting out of my uncle's Corvette. That was one tactical error I actually learned something from.
I'd really like to think I was up to the task of building my own, either from a real metal made-in-Detroit donor Deuce or a quaity set of Tupperware (fiberglass body). But I'm man enough to admit that if I built me a hot rod, it'd be with a checkbook, not a socket set. I got no skills. What I do have is a pile of magazines (Hot Rod, Car Craft, Rodders Journal, etc.) and a ton of toy cars cobbled together over about 30-something years of seriously wanting a hot rod. Maybe it's research for when I do graduate to hot rod ownership. Or maybe it's just a buncha cool old hot rod junk. Either way's fine with me.
Guess all this plants me firmly in the Wannabe column. Let's hope that's a temporary thing.
2 comments:
"Three window coupe, you're the toughest machine in town!"
I'm guessing you had a big pile of those "CAR-TOON" comics as a kid.
"I'm not braggin', babe, so don't put me down..."
Click HERE to download THE SURFSIDERS SING THE BEACH BOYS' SONGBOOK.
"T-T Bucket-T, T-Bucket-T!"
When you manage to buy the car of your dreams and you're looking for a passenger, give me a call.
Post a Comment