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Ooh, couldn't resist this thread after all.
After spending years getting my 58 to drivable condition, I was mighty proud of
myself. The car looked like a scrapyard refugee but nobody was ever more
proud of his car. At a summer swap meet in Fredericksburg, Texas, I came
across the San Antonio Mopar club called the Mopar Muscle Club of San
Antonio. I visited a while and they told me where their monthly meet was
held, at one of the nation's first ever drive-ins called, I kid you not, The Pig
Stand.
I went down the next month in my little VW
Cabriolet and scoped out the rows of gleaming Mopar muscle cars. The
following month, following Woody Allen's sage advice, that 88% of life is just
showing up, I took the Bomb, as I used to call my 58, down to the Pig
Stand. The crowded parking lot parted like the Red Sea as I drove
through. I could tell I had made a good decision. I was ushered into
a covered, coveted, spot near the restaurant, a real honor it turned
out. Folks crowded round the car like it was a miraculous
apparition. They didn't wait for me to open the hood. "I told you it
had a Hemi," was the general tenor of the admiring comments.
I soon met with the president of the club. I
started out with an apology. I said I know my car isn't a muscle car but I
hoped they wouldn't mind me crashing the party for a while. "Heck," he
said, "If it's got a Hemi, you're in. Even if it doesn't, it still a
really cool ride." Since then I took it on any number of cruises, my
favorite car activity, parades, where the club always loves to put its magnetic
signs on the big fins on the 58, and even their car shows. One year, the
sign I put up saying "Don't Judge" blew away and they did judge it which was
mutually dispiriting but who really cares. One year a whole bunch of folks
brought their Imperials to the San Antonio Mopar show. Tim Klein even won
a prize for his 67 or 68. (Sorry, sir, I can't remember.)
So I started off as the lone Imperial and ended up
starting a trend of sorts. The bottom line is our cars look better
unrestored than many do after the infusion of many, many dollars.
Something about a silk purse and a sow's ear comes to mind. You just can't
hide style. Faded beauty is better than no beauty at all.
Hugh
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