A few weeks ago, I wrote about my first car (“You Never Forget Your First”).
Perhaps I misled you. This was not my first automotive love. My first love was unrequited.
My mom’s family came from Pennsylvania Dutch country and Bucks County, PA, by way of Rochester, NY. (BTW, the Rochester branch has some interesting stories I may write about some day.)
My grandfather’s uncle (my great-grand uncle) lived in Rochester and was a successful businessman. He passed away in the early 1930s. My great-grand aunt Edith (my mom is her namesake) was well to do and in 1955 she bought a new Chrysler Imperial1, metallic gray with a gray mohair interior.
The Imperial was at least the equivalent to a Cadillac at the time, but it was (in its own way) more understated than the Caddy. When my aunt Edith passed away in 1958 my grandmother inherited the Imperial.
I remember the Imperial fondly. I’ll never forget my 5’2” grandmother behind the wheel of this monster. She had to run the power seat all the way forward so her pumps could make contact with the pedals. This meant that you didn’t buckle your seatbelt until the seat was all the way forward lest the belt cut you in half like automotive hara-kiri.
My grandmother was hell on wheels. She’d gun the car’s 331 cubic inch hemi motor and zoom around town. 25 MPH speed limit? Put the car in “D” and that hemi would idle at 25 MPH! Red light? No problem, just cut through the gas station on the corner. People learned to give her a wide berth.
In 1965 my love was in a head-on collision with an early 1960s Mercury Comet. The Mercury and its passengers didn’t fare very well, but my grandparents and various cousins in the Imperial just had some bumps and bruises.
The Imperial got fixed but the accident put the new car bug in my grandfather’s ear. In 1966 he bought my grandmother a new turquoise Buick Electra 225.
What to do with the Imperial? My grandmother gave the car to my uncle who needed a car as a daily driver. I was crushed as any 12-year-old boy would be.
I forgot all about the car until one night in 1970 when my uncle called. Did I want the car? You bet! I floated on air as I went to tell my dad. Ever the practical engineer, he asked me questions I couldn’t answer. How many miles? Was the engine burning oil? Any rust?
It turns out my love was pretty clapped out. She’d have used up all my cash like my Italian girl (the Fiat X1/9) actually did a few years later.
The last I heard about my love was that my uncle sold the car to a collector as a parts car.
*Sniff*
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“In times of universal deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act.”
- George Orwell
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What a Twit!
Unless your head is buried in the sand, it’s been hard to avoid Elon Musk’s battle to buy Twitter and take it private. Basically, it’s a sideshow in the news where the Johnny Depp-Amber Heard trial has been in the top headlines. Oh, and there’s a war in Ukraine.
That is, unless you work at Twitter. The snowflakes there are absolutely apoplectic about Musk buying the company. “He’ll ruin it”, they say. The fact is, I don’t think anyone could tell you Musk’s political leanings, but if I had to guess I’d say he’s a Libertarian.
Regardless, many of the Twitter employees are losing their $#!+ over the buyout. I figure that this is because now someone might be paying more attention to their work?
Anyway, there are thousands of tweets by employees about the buyout. But this one caught my eye:
Let’s just hope this is a spoof!
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Mechanic vs Cardiologist (hat tip: Mike G.)
A Lexus mechanic was installing the cylinder head of an LX460’s motor when he spotted a well-known cardiologist in his shop.
The cardiologist was there waiting for the service manager to come and take a look at his car when the mechanic shouted across the garage, "Hey Doc, want to take a look at this?"
The cardiologist, a bit surprised, walked over to where the mechanic was working.
The mechanic straightened up, wiped his hands on a rag and asked, "So Doc, look at this engine. I opened its heart, took the valves out, repaired or replaced anything damaged, and then put everything back in, and when I finished, it worked just like new. So how is it that I make $78,000 a year and you make $2.7M, when you and I are doing basically the same work?"
The cardiologist paused, leaned over, and then whispered to the mechanic... "Try doing it with the engine running.”
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I’m sorry to say but I don’t have any pictures of the actual cars. These pictures are as close as I could get to the real thing.
Beautiful cars! I miss them.