Time Of The Year For Muscle Cars

By Mark Weisseg

So many of us are counting the days until we can open the garage doors and make noise. What better way than an old truck with a big loud engine and a bike that can do the same?

The only thing missing from this picture is a hot rod. I did that on purpose so that you can fill in the blank with your own hot rod. We here in the snow belt have had a mild winter. Not so in the far northeast or the Dakota’s. But that is there problem. Mine is that when I Looked at my cars last week and they are crying for my attention.

The Road Runner is anxious as it somehow knows it will be first out of the barn. It somehow knows everyone is ready to stare at it. Next, my Shelby. That bad ass car with over 700 horsepower now has a mission statement. You see some punk lives down the street from me. He drives his car year round. It’s a Mustang with a 5.0 and a loud exhaust. My Shelby is going to hunt this piss ant down the first chance I get. I am going to coax him outside and ask if he would like to take on a real Mustang. I hope he does. This acne laced kid is asking for it and I am the one ready to show him why he drives a 5.0 and I drive a 5.8 Supercharged. Then, as the days unfold the rest of the cars and trucks will come out.

They are all hungry for premium fuel and a bit of unfolding. It’s been since mid November when I tucked them in. I have been way too patient but normally I am not a patient guy. For example, I am headed to the new car show in Chicago and I always love the show and the models but hate the idiots that pretend to know what they are looking at.

I have my Media badge so I hope to convince some car makers I am on to them. Maybe the models too. But, I have to regress. I spoke with a friend in Phoenix over the weekend and he wants me to move there. Then, I could drive my cars all the time. Very tempting until he said they have two seasons there instead of four. He says the seasons are; inside and outside. Very funny until it’s July and a 115 degrees. Sure no humidity but at 115 who cares! That is why it’s on my long list.

The short list is getting shorter but I am not quite ready to chuck it all yet and race wheel chairs down the hall. Mom is still alive and she will be 95 in June. I took her for a ride in my Shelby last year. As I made a right turn I dropped a gear and let the pedal feel the floor boards. After I let off she said she thought we were on a runway and ready to take off. I told her to keep her door closed or we would. This year she gets another big thrill. I am taking delivery of my 28 Ford Model A. It’s black with red wheels and slow. It’s a car that my Dad had when they dated. She does not remember Dad’s car from that time but she is excited to once again go for a ride with her good little boy.

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