She's No Mary Ann
September 26th 2008 04:55
I, like many Americans, have been fascinated with American muscle cars. I’m not talking about wimpy fuel-efficient, stripped-down cars either. I am talking about my love affair with pony cars that make a lot of noise and generate a tremendous amount of sheer horsepower. Nothing is more beautiful to my ear than the growl of that big block engine at full throttle! They are big, loud, smell funny, and drink gas like a drunk in a vodka factory, but when you put it next to some modern wind up toy, there is no comparison.
From the time I can remember, my father, my uncles, and my granddad were always “Car guys”. Quite simply, they “got” old cars – they weren’t just the people, who bought them, but people who understood them, the people who worked on them, they truly loved cars. Hour after hour were spent working on and discussing old cars and talking about the intricacies of each make or model. We would pour through manuals, books, and magazines about old cars as we could. These guys didn’t get very much time off of work, so when they did we made sure to enjoy it. I didn't care too much about what we did; I just loved hanging out in the garage with the guys . I was hypnotized watching them perform "surgery" as well as resisutate cars that were generally thought to be "goners." The more I learned about old cars, the more I too became fascinated with them.
Over the years my family bought, sold, and restored numerous cars. But I had to take an 18 year hiatus from the “car biz” to raise a family and meander through my career. Recently after my dad’s brush with cancer, my family and I decided that we would put together one last project. All I had to do was to find “THE” car. My task was straightforward. I had to talk to the “old car guys”. I had to seek them out. They were all young guys once. A lot of them didn’t have any family left; they just want to see the love of their life, the car they were always going to restore — but never got to... After researching and interviewing many old timers, the top recommendation was the old school Challenger
One evening I came across an ad on Craig’s list and came upon HER!
Here she is in all her glory. A 1973 Dodge Challenger. Her paint job has faded. Her finish is pocked with more holes than Swiss cheese thanks to a neighbor who used her scoop hood for target practice. It did not matter to me that her body is rusted through. Her floorboards have a crater sized hole near the gas pedal that is covered with a Century 21 for sale sign. Her metal is so fragile and eaten by rust but her frame is straight and all of her glass is intact. Some of her parts of her engine are corroded. She has hundreds of errant parts, a veritable automotive jigsaw puzzle. She has power steering and brakes, slapstick shifter, power front discs, air conditioning and heating and an intact five mile per hour bumper. With all her idiosyncrasies, this fading starlet looked beautiful to me.
My friend Bo and his truck Herman and I hauled her across America’s Heartland back to Texas. We found the folks in Licking Missouri delightful (even though I made the ultimate faux pas of wearing flip flops after Labor Day) and enjoyed the tasty burgers at a local joint and giggled at signs that read "Licking License Office", "Licking High School", and our favorite ...."Licking Christian Church." We raised our eyebrows as the good natured farmer whom we purchased the car from wriggled his 300 plus frame into her front seat to put her in neutral. We enjoyed talking to other Mo-Par fans who stopped us to ask questions about what we were going to do with her as we hauled her back home to the land of Moon Pies and RC Cola. During our drive, I settled on her name. …Ginger. I think that “Ginger” suited her well. (And we listened to a podcast that sealed the deal). Like the sex kitten Ginger Grant, from Gilligan's Island, my Ginger was not meant to be a stereotypical bimbo experienced at using her body as both a weapon and a bribe but more of a character with heart and essential decency . She is a spirited performer whose power propels her forward (her 400 Big block would see to that!) See for yourself
I recognize that newer cars are more reliable than Ginger in many cases. Yes, new cars can be safer and more comfortable than her. But regardless, I am a real car gal. I love muscle cars for their lack of modern conveniences. I love them for the direct connection to the road, noise and vibration. I love these cars because I know that it’s not a domestic appliance - it’s a machine that requires maintenance, care and patience and rewards the owner who lavishes those things upon it with years of heart pumping driving. I love these classics because there’s a passion driving me forward that transcends all the work involved in keeping it on the road.
Every day when I get home from work, I open the garage door and look over her and sigh. I can’t wait to get her started because someday with a little elbow grease and a lightened bank account, she will be all haute couture with a purring that you can hear all the way down the street.
From the time I can remember, my father, my uncles, and my granddad were always “Car guys”. Quite simply, they “got” old cars – they weren’t just the people, who bought them, but people who understood them, the people who worked on them, they truly loved cars. Hour after hour were spent working on and discussing old cars and talking about the intricacies of each make or model. We would pour through manuals, books, and magazines about old cars as we could. These guys didn’t get very much time off of work, so when they did we made sure to enjoy it. I didn't care too much about what we did; I just loved hanging out in the garage with the guys . I was hypnotized watching them perform "surgery" as well as resisutate cars that were generally thought to be "goners." The more I learned about old cars, the more I too became fascinated with them.
Over the years my family bought, sold, and restored numerous cars. But I had to take an 18 year hiatus from the “car biz” to raise a family and meander through my career. Recently after my dad’s brush with cancer, my family and I decided that we would put together one last project. All I had to do was to find “THE” car. My task was straightforward. I had to talk to the “old car guys”. I had to seek them out. They were all young guys once. A lot of them didn’t have any family left; they just want to see the love of their life, the car they were always going to restore — but never got to... After researching and interviewing many old timers, the top recommendation was the old school Challenger
One evening I came across an ad on Craig’s list and came upon HER!
Here she is in all her glory. A 1973 Dodge Challenger. Her paint job has faded. Her finish is pocked with more holes than Swiss cheese thanks to a neighbor who used her scoop hood for target practice. It did not matter to me that her body is rusted through. Her floorboards have a crater sized hole near the gas pedal that is covered with a Century 21 for sale sign. Her metal is so fragile and eaten by rust but her frame is straight and all of her glass is intact. Some of her parts of her engine are corroded. She has hundreds of errant parts, a veritable automotive jigsaw puzzle. She has power steering and brakes, slapstick shifter, power front discs, air conditioning and heating and an intact five mile per hour bumper. With all her idiosyncrasies, this fading starlet looked beautiful to me.
My friend Bo and his truck Herman and I hauled her across America’s Heartland back to Texas. We found the folks in Licking Missouri delightful (even though I made the ultimate faux pas of wearing flip flops after Labor Day) and enjoyed the tasty burgers at a local joint and giggled at signs that read "Licking License Office", "Licking High School", and our favorite ...."Licking Christian Church." We raised our eyebrows as the good natured farmer whom we purchased the car from wriggled his 300 plus frame into her front seat to put her in neutral. We enjoyed talking to other Mo-Par fans who stopped us to ask questions about what we were going to do with her as we hauled her back home to the land of Moon Pies and RC Cola. During our drive, I settled on her name. …Ginger. I think that “Ginger” suited her well. (And we listened to a podcast that sealed the deal). Like the sex kitten Ginger Grant, from Gilligan's Island, my Ginger was not meant to be a stereotypical bimbo experienced at using her body as both a weapon and a bribe but more of a character with heart and essential decency . She is a spirited performer whose power propels her forward (her 400 Big block would see to that!) See for yourself
I recognize that newer cars are more reliable than Ginger in many cases. Yes, new cars can be safer and more comfortable than her. But regardless, I am a real car gal. I love muscle cars for their lack of modern conveniences. I love them for the direct connection to the road, noise and vibration. I love these cars because I know that it’s not a domestic appliance - it’s a machine that requires maintenance, care and patience and rewards the owner who lavishes those things upon it with years of heart pumping driving. I love these classics because there’s a passion driving me forward that transcends all the work involved in keeping it on the road.
Every day when I get home from work, I open the garage door and look over her and sigh. I can’t wait to get her started because someday with a little elbow grease and a lightened bank account, she will be all haute couture with a purring that you can hear all the way down the street.
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Comment by Bo
Thanks for letting me come along for the ride and help. I had a blast!
Comment by okeedokee
Comment by Mr Nice Guy
Pop Culturist
Pop Rock Factory
That's a great yarn!
How about a few shots along the way - as you embark on the journey of bringing Ginger back to her former glory.
Wanted to bring in something to work on myself (with my dad) when we returned from your beautiful shores earlier this year - you've rekindled the need.
Your job will be a big one - but the payoff will be worth it. You relate the tale so well - I wish I was there with you to give you a hand.
BTW - love the fact that Bo's truck's name is Herman - that's outrageously quaint.
LYW
Comment by Miswanderlust
Killer Beats
Ramble On
Hipnotherapy
We did have a blast. You are a great traveling buddy. Can't wait to tell you some new George stories. He is totally in love with her. I think I did "too good!" Got a little garage drama though....Blackie is totally giving her the cold shoulder. It's tough being the "other woman!"
Mis
Comment by Miswanderlust
Killer Beats
Ramble On
Hipnotherapy
In ten years, I am hoping for the "Ooh la la'" factor. I always thought that the Professor had a "thing" for Gilligan. HAHAHA!
Mis
Comment by Miswanderlust
Killer Beats
Ramble On
Hipnotherapy
I will certainly update you regarding this journey ith Ginger. I am totally giddy about this endeavor.
MNG take the opportunity to work with your dad. We are having a blast. He is a bit of curmudgeon but totally loveable. I am working on a follow up post. Will probably take me a couple of days.
Thank you so much for this. It means so much to me.
You relate the tale so well - I wish I was there with you to give you a hand.
BTW - love the fact that Bo's truck's name is Herman - that's outrageously quaint.
I will pass it on :0)
Mis
Hug the MNG clan for me! Talk to you soon
Comment by Cibbuano
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Comment by Miswanderlust
Killer Beats
Ramble On
Hipnotherapy
This might take 5 to 10 years (due to the expense). Not sure how long it will take but we will see. I will certainly memorialize my progress! Did not realize you were a car guy!
Mis