It started innocently enough. I had moved my old beater ’55 Ford out of the garage on a sunny March Sunday, to sweep out a winter’s worth of leftovers and residue. And I thought, “Well, it’s outside, I might as well limber it up a bit”. So, I did. It began as a minor jaunt around the block, but I couldn’t help myself. I had to do more. I kept going, driving around town, not going anywhere, just sawing that big old steering wheel back and forth, aimlessly exploring back streets and dodging newly cultivated potholes. The heater was well into its duty cycle by the time I was back in my driveway and all was good… until last weekend.
A rare, million-dollar spring day brought the itch to drive. Again, I couldn’t help myself and the Ford came out. This time, there were others of its kind already on the street. Fellow car club’ers were shaking off the winter webs and convening for a local meeting and potluck. Along the curb, a hodge-podge medley of member machinery: a seven-year-project low-riding ’58 Chevy on its maiden run; a thundering big-block ’70 Chevelle; a ’57 Chevy with freshly-primed fenders, new suspension and 5-speed; an oil-dripping ’55 Ford. Passers-by rubber-necked and a kid on a bike asked, “What year is the car?” Jimmie didn’t even have to look at his registration card…..
The season is here, folks. Hit the road and have some fun!