My poor old 1958 now luxuriates in a new class. She is, officially, a
classic. I gave up waiting for the DOT to get back to me, went to them and
found there had been a SNAFU at their end. However I could go down town to
the main county tax office and get my classic tabs. Tabs is wait they call
them. So, now, the car has the funky looking white letters on a black
surface 1958 plates.
The car is holding up fairly well with its new obligations as a daily
driver. Much of the noises have gone away and, following the re-tune, it is
much easier to start when hot. In fact, today I had a whole series of stops
to make, all over town, and she started right up every time. Regrettably,
it is still smoking, which I attribute to blow by. Rats. It is not,
however, as bad as it was. I will try the Valvoline high mileage engine
oil, I think. I may have to fool with the lousy filter canister again, too.
Shoot.
The point of keeping it running as long as possible is to create wiggle room
for the resurrection of the 1992 Chrysler. I think I can get it re-built.
I have been going through the various levels of bureaucracy at State Farm,
each one as agreeable to deal with as the last, I am happy to say. It is
coming down, as is always the case, to cost and value. I am working a four
pronged negotiation between the credit union, the insurance company, the
body shop and a parts supplier. Each element has it's own perspective. I
have been pretty tireless in my efforts to keep the car alive, but its all a
question of making the numbers line up just right so that all the parties
are happy. I am pleased that State Farm is prepared to keep the options
open, at their cost, so to speak, as they will be obliged to pay daily
storage if the car is totaled out. Actually, it has been. Twice. But I
find ways to keep the ball in play. The issue should be resolved one way or
another tomorrow.
I really don't like using the Imperial as a daily driver. The flaws I can
live with when regarding it as a big, rather silly, toy are not tolerable on
a daily basis. Plus it takes all the fun out of weekend blasts hither and
yon. Oh well.
Hugh
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