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I know how fortunate I am to have a monthly column reserved for any ramblings that may be running through my head. It seems I usually have an uncomfortable amount of thoughts sparking up the ol’ gray matterplenty of material to write about. Strangely enough, though, when I sat down to write this month’s editorial, I ended up staring at a blank screen for a bit longer than I care to admit. It wasn’t until I finally snapped out of my zombie-like state that I realized I had been fixated on the blinking cursor. I guess it’s OK to zone out for a while. Let’s call it meditation.
I began to realize that I was thinking about a thread I’d read online the night before. It was about a guy who had been struggling with his projects. Nothing out of the norm, right? Like most of us, he had a pile of parts he’d collected throughout the years, including a couple of cars he was trying to get back on the road. It turns out I only caught the end of the thread, where he eventually unloaded everything and managed to get into a new projectone he could actually jump in and drive. You can forget about any remorse, because there was none. Instead, he was happy to regain his garage, and he loves the fact he now has a car he can once again enjoy on the weekends.
Then it hit me: I’m that guy, only I haven’t gotten rid of anything. Admittedly, I’m five cars deep with my own issues, and I’m quick to point out that I need each of them. Of course, that’s the gearhead addict in me coming out, because surely everyone needs a car to serve each particular function. You know, a daily driver, something to tow or haul things with, the fun performance car that does it all, a dedicated track car, and the really necessary secondary track car of another brand. I know, it’s ridiculous, so I think I’ll justify it by saying it’s my contribution to saving a bit of automotive history.
The truth of the matter is I appreciate anything with wheels and an engine. Combine that with an affinity for both carbureted and fuel-injected combinations and you have a guy like me who wants to put his hands on everything.
Maybe one day I’ll grow up and do the responsible thing by letting go of a ride or two. Then there is today’s option, which is to check out the smoking deal I found on a running third-gen Camaro off craigslist. I think I’ll give in to my inner child and choose the latter.