MAGAZINE

Until it hits.

When it hits, you remember what it was that made you what, or who, you are today and what it is that makes you 'tick'. You know that no amount of good fortune or opportunity or experience (good or bad) is going to take it from you; you know that you are still a kid because it came back. It make's the work worth while. It justifies skinned knuckles. It rationalizes long hours........and expensive surprises.

It can create net worth on your spiritual balance sheet.

When you have it, you know you are alive because it certifies that you have more living to do. It fosters enthusiasm and good, positive thoughts and (hopefully) creative deeds, and we got it, Boys, because. ......it is......................"something to look forward to".

We gonna have a new hot rod!

We done sat in it and banged a few shifts before it was wired. We sat/stood in about six different places to absorb every angle, every nuance it had to offer. It's gotta be right. Right?

"Hope we can find the right height tire so it will fill the fender." "Those wheels are gonna have to be widened on the inside to drag that tread center into the center of the fender where it belongs." "Rear has to be lower than that, Ol' Boy....". "Should we scuff the hood up, too, or...?"

All the while you're dreamin' about how well it'll go, stop, steer, ride, how you'll sit in it and.....all of this requires lookin' forward. Not aft. We think this is probably healthy. We think it has merit and we think that when the car is running, when the car has been to the Rattle Can and maybe points further North and East, that it will have switched to ...................realizing the car.

But what about it?

Not to worry. Who says you can't look forward to the next one while you're out lookin' cool in this one? Nobody.

But even if there's not another one on the back burner, and if you are a completely happening Dude with the car you got, then maybe what you look forward to is using this one. The trip to Bonneville. A turnaround with your coolest Buds. Driving it to work one day this week. Or every day.

A hot rod is a vehicle to move your ass around town, it's a vehicle of expression, or escape.....we don't really have it all pegged. We do know that if you have read this far you prob'ly stick around here with the prospect that you'll hear something herein that echoes your own feelings for the iron.......the visceral part that causes you to get it just about every day of your life.

You're probably some one-dimensional Hop Up Guy that society doesn't really get . A car guy. And not even a socially-approved Ferrarista or 'Vette owner. You can't even WOW the neighbors with: "It's got A/C, cruise control, digital instruments....you know how much this thing COST?!!"

You're a hot rodder.

How pedestrian.

"My husband's a car person...." she'll say, apologetically, "so he'll be going to a car show .....instead...".

But you have no room to harbor shame. You are consumed with it. You are kinda single-minded. Focused may be the word. You require comforting thoughts to maintain this bitchin personality you got.......... and the cars do that for you.

It would be particularly broad of you to worry about what the world at large thinks about hairy-legged hot rodders........................

But you probably just don't give a shit, now, do ya?

IT'S ABOUT THE IRON.