As much as I loathe working on my own ride that I might make it to work on monday, I often think how much I’d love to build a custom car. The skills are there, from fab and design to build and- well, everything but paint. I’ve often thought I’d love to take something like an old 914 and chop and channel it, make a car with a body about 14″ tall and bulgy fenders to contain the slicks, or even a classic Tbucket or a chopped and channelled Tudor.

I’m certainly not unique in this, there are loads of guys who have made wonderful hotrods, and even the folks who take “regular” cars and make them pretty have a good time with it; partner’s brother Rich is ressurecting a Mustang and doing it right, and I’m mixed between happiness and jealously for him.

I often think in the October of our lives, the Ogwife and I might take weekend car trips around the country in a nice restored or rodded ride, and then I wake up. I think about the work involved in making/keeping such a ride, and then I think of taking those trips in a modern, quiet, air conditioned car with all the amenities, and I decide that this is a better idea. We can more easily purchase and pay for a nice Mustang ragtop and it will always be ready for use, and not require 4 weeks of prep for every weekend of driving.

Yeah, I’m old and tired of fucking around.

Postscript: This came up part because of seeing a piece of the Barrett Jackson auction, part because last weekend I sat down and watched “Tales of the Rat Fink” online; yes, you can now watch the whole movie, and if you’re a car geek, I reccomend it.