It’s that time of year again – the bi-annual, trek through the quagmire of endless seas of car parts event in Monroe, Washington. You remember that my Mechanic Man gave ME a cart that I drag along with me, through miles and miles and MILES of greasy car parts with the idea that parts will jump into the cart and when it’s full, *I* will trek it back through the miles I have already walked, back to the car which is parked at the furthest end of the parking lot because so many people decided to attend because of the truly perfect weather. There were many carts – mostly pulled by women. There were many, many men, all looking quite alike with their same-colored shirts, browsing with the same focused look – staring at piles and jumbles of indistinguishable tangles of parts. But these guys can tell, like Superman with x-ray vision, they can look into a mountain of black, messy, gooey, greasy pieces of parts and determine in one nano second that THAT is a little tiny piece for my [fill in the blank year] [fill in the blank model] [fill in the blank car]. In other words, Mechanic Man spied the right lens for a 32 Model-T Ford, sitting in one of his garages, just waiting for this particular prized part (plus about 1,000 other missing or rusted-out or damaged parts). One small step for mankind; one giant leap towards a cherried out whatever-mo-beele to bring to a show-and-shine car show and bask in all its glory. This can take many hours of work, and I expect it to be ready for a car show sometime in 2025. I’ll be very, very old then.
Tell me about your favorite car (part).