Sweet ride
So, in 1995, I quit my job, went to Europe for 3 months, and moved back in with my mom & dad 'til I could get a job in the Boston area. This living-at-home plan began in the summer, and lasted a few months longer than I planned, but it was cool while it lasted. It seems like a lifetime ago. Late that autumn, my brother finds a classic car he wants to buy. He drives it back from Taunton or wherever it was that night, and it dies at the rest area 20 miles from home. So, I hop into my car, drive a battery to him, he fires it up and gets home and I still get to go out that night. I don't remember where I went, but was f'n freezing that night, that much I remember, and I think this car didn't even have heat. Two years later (1997ish) he decides he wants to fix it up. Car parts are all over the place at his house. Then it lives at the paint shop for 6 years or so. It needs a panel of some sort, so he spends a couple years trolling ebay, makes a bid last year, and dr