When I was still under three feet tall and barely a few years into grade school, cars were just the big thing that my parents drove to the stores, to work, and to church. We'd take Sunday drives, go for picnics and haul the boat out to the lake. It just got me where we were going. My Matchbox and Hot Wheels cars could fly when the doors were opened. My Motorific cars and track let me create places to go, and set travelers in motion.
But when my dad took me to my first car show and auction, that's when my interest in old cars started.
My first love were the "gangster cars" - those elegant carriages of the '20s and '30s. Wood trim, velvet seats, long noses of engine, suicide doors and running boards. Only later did I realize that the prices were probably going to be out of reach for awhile, and worse, to this day, they are all stick shift. What's an automatic boy to do?
While Living in Chicago, I joined the Lambda Car Club, rode in dozens of vehicles (testing them out, ya know), and going to show after show, deciding what i liked and what i wanted.
The 1959 Cadillac - BIG just about says it all. One of the longest cars ever made, a trunk big enough to live in, and the biggest tail fins ever, which, of course, made it go faster! It was the fins which really got me, and somehow, somday, I really want to own one and drive it everywhere. I even had a dream once that my soulmate and partner in life would drive up to me one day, wearing those tough dark sunglasses, asking me if I wanted to go for a ride.
Well, the Caddy certainly won't fit it my garage right now, so i continued looking for another '50s car with style. I walked rows of cars at the shows and fairs. Which one would it be? I turned a corner and was just about blinded by reflecting sun. Yikes! What windshield was doing that? Turns out, it was no windshield, it was chrome. And lots of it. There is more chrome on the 1958 Buick Roadmaster than any other car ever made (commercially). And I loved it.
I found one in perfect condition and hemmed and hawed and tried to figure out just how could I buy it. I saved and planned...and if I hadn't decided to move to Seattle, I would have bought it. I almost bought it anyway and would have driven it out to the West Coast, despite the looks of fear and apprehensive comments from my LCC friends.
There is a house now, and my 2001 Xterra out front,
but still no collector car in my driveway. I keep thinking about it, and this is what's on my list:
Lincoln Futura
Batmobile
Ah, the joys of home ownership mean the joy of having a workshop to carry out all those repair, replacement and remodeling projects. When I bought my first house, it seemed to be in pretty good shape. No cracks in the walls or foundation, no roof or ceiling leaks, no animals in the walls. Aside from a slight and continued settling in one coner of an addition, the house was pretty solid.
The house was built in 1954 and had some improvements over the years by successive owners. One very good thing - a second bathroom on the lower level. The orginal homes in the neighborhood only came with one, and while that might have been fine in the '50s, it doesn't always work out too well these days.
Still, the place needed some work on my very first day to make it more livable for me. The bedrooms were really small, and a closet had to be removed to make way for my king-sized waterbed. A fence had to be moved out to the property line to reclaim some very wasted space in the back yard. And because the previous owner appeared to be too lazy and inconsiderate, I had to very quickly learn about plumbing to replace the dried, crusty and broken seal between the water tank and the bowl on the toilet. At least the guy left me a note saying that I would have a flood on my hands if the tank got flushed.
The projects first year was mostly spent outside, cleaning, trimming and pruning. The previous owners, again, didn't do much outside except cut the grass. Check out the Garden for pictures.
Closing in on fours years now in the house and my biggest project was March 2001 - the water supply line from the street was leaking. After almost 50 years, the pipes were giving out. Apparently mine had lasted fairly well compared to my neighbors, who all seemingly had replaced theirs in the last ten years.
It was a fun project, and with the help of my boyfriend and two neighbors, we got a trench dug, new pipe laid in and new brass fittings. There were a few touch and go moments, like trying to figure out how to rejoin the new fittings with the (very) old street side meter.
Now it's time for the wiring to be replaced.
