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H.A.M.B. (Hop Up Alternative Message Board) Winter Car Shows T 'n A Drip Pan Mort's Shorts |
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MAGAZINE
Wasn't gonna say anything here..maybe even no web page this month.... cuz we wuz real busy dune stuff.
Stuff that had to come first. Stuff that had caused a draught in hands-on. But we snuck away and worked on this p.o.s. that only gets out once in a while...needed an alternator (shutup), battery, oil change, diff check, band adjustment (know which p.o.s. it was?), wash, wax, and quick buff on the nickel.
Looks like rain for the day it was supposed to go out.......but we don't care. Got to lay hands on the car. Told Sweet Thang that the 3-4 hours of purposeful escape..... afforded by that project..... had purged the demons. Cleansed the soul. Soothed the Savage Beast.
Catharsis.
And it was fraught with mutterin', musing, pity and profanity....because it took place in a disorderly place. Sure. It was disorderly because everything is qued up waiting to move in to an orderly place...but that's in a couple weeks.
Happiness, true happiness will be having your junk in one place, having the tools handy so when you make the inevitable wrong choice ('goddammit, that was a 1/2" a minute ago') you can switch tools by just reaching over and switching it, not walking a maze 50 feet long and stepping over all kinds o' .......more junk. Having a little heat available in the right place so you can just flick it on near the project, 'stead of carrying a 50 # bottle around everything else (threatening to scratch everything in its' path) to where you want it, lighting it and the frickin' thing runnin' out of gas 10 minutes in to the work. Things too crowded for you to use the proper light rig and having to use a flashlight under the dang thing, holding it with one hand while you try to start a bolt with the other in the dark, all the while sweating just enough to fog your glasses in spite of your ass freezing on the concrete (too low to use a creeper and too crowded to put the floorjack under it without opening the door and freezing even more.)
You'll notice 40 little things while you are under there, too, thinking, "That really merits some tinker-time", knowing that, as long as the crap is spread far and wide and you can only steal a minute here and there, it will never get proper maintenance................
Alas, order is eminent.
A place where, when you can use the creeper, you don't hafta worry about running over strewn extension cords; a place where you can leave the thing torn apart for a few days if you have to. Or want to. Usta be if you had it apart you had to put it back together enough so that you could move it just in case you needed something that was behind it.
A place where you can reorganize your tools. Finally. See what ya got. And make room for more.
Or not work at all; a place where a stogie and a cool one will fit right in. Or just takin' in the vistas availed in that rectangular space: e.g. your version of art ...on the wall.
Cluttered.
Or not. Maybe selectively and stingily paid out on precious finite wall space, with track lights featuring the few best, most memorable illusions you need to get that 'buzz'.
Or posters, plaques, license plates, beer signs, pit passes, and door numerals stuck side by side to affect a colorful and memorable collage of the last 35 years of doing more of what you want to do than any free man could ever want.
I dunno. A boy's just gotta have his own room.
God Bless America
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