Good evening everyone.
I got caught out in a the rain the other day in Fred (not bad, just misjudged the timing
on the arrival of the next squall)...
(It's always been hilarious to me how small the wipers are on these b-bodies; reminds me of
those tiny clown cars that 50 clowns piled out of at the circus. )
Arriving unscathed but wet (and more than a little thankful that the wipers stayed on the car),
I grabbed a towel and dried ol' Fred off real quick like, hoping it meant he'd stay all shiny from the
last marathon Meguires session.
Well, no such luck - he needed shined back up a little bit...
Sheesh, owning a Mopar with sort of an actual paint job on it is sure different for me; most of 'em in
my distant past weren't the prettiest things, so I didn't care as much.
Anyways, I was out there today in that hot and humidor of a TN summer afternoon, dutifully microfibering
and Meguirin' after sweeping out the garage before my wife got home.
As I got to each part of Fred in the process, memories started coming back to me - stories of how this
part came to be on the car, how that part got better over time, how I dented him there (and wound up
hiring a body shop to take care of it, thank you Hagerty!), how the paint codes given to me a decade ago
when I bought Fred worked flawlessly when needed (and how they couldn't use their water-based paint
and had to resort to more conventional means).
The whole simple process of shining the car up went like that - spiff one part up, pause as memories came...
the entire process wound up taking way too long and I got way too sweaty Betty - but it got done
and I lost track of time while doing it.
When my wife came rolling in from work, she naturally wanted to know why I insisted on being out in all
that nasty air, standing there looking like a drowned rat (and probably thinking I had a screw loose).
I told her I was fine - I was just visiting with old friends.
So - when you guys are spending time polishing up YOUR Mopars, do the memories come back for you, too?
