tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17502249632532379842024-03-05T06:17:48.896-08:00FRANK'S CLASSIC CAR BLOGAt The Amberlight GarageFrank the Crankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08021995104993630048noreply@blogger.comBlogger138125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1750224963253237984.post-23989720501495938412024-01-28T19:03:00.000-08:002024-01-28T19:03:36.758-08:00FranktoidTM No. 26 - Wiping Out Low Prices<p> It is pretty much common knowledge that almost everything is getting more expensive now-a-days. Unless you're living under a rock, you have noticed. All you have to do is pay attention to the stuff you regularly purchase and watch the prices. This appears to be a two tier approach because if the price has not noticeably gone up then the product appears to have shrunk. This is referred to as "shrinkflation". Case in point: The other day I bought lunch at McDonald's and my Filet-O-Fish sandwich was literally the size of a slider. Even the boxes that hold them have gotten smaller. Excuses abound for shrinkflation, from being called a conspiracy theory to blaming it on the Mandela effect - another words they were always that size, you just <i>thought</i> they were larger! Call me crazy then because I finished it in three bites and my mouth sure hasn't gotten any bigger... And imagine my surprise (or lack thereof) when I saw an ad for $18 off wiper blades! Just how expensive are these blades?! The last set I bought was like half of that. Are wiper blades on the inflation station destined for even higher prices? Maybe it's just the high prices of the seller, who I definitely won't name here out of common decency, but they might just rhyme with Zappa.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHAUT_-w7s5-Bd31JyGXDe_8F0Qzo7srFn4TIwZ23MMBqGbMCmF-vv1rhboqdPO5bF6zrkJ1iNwLS7I02IP_LJHrXvfwJ-F2ZYJy3LeOO2ExUTLZK93bSeuWkL9ldQdFFU71Io8eGNnTEYr3TuHtzOYZhGo_7oHHBbH2XxZyobApoqf9R6B3UIM17APpQ/s640/Wiper%20Blades.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="272" data-original-width="640" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHAUT_-w7s5-Bd31JyGXDe_8F0Qzo7srFn4TIwZ23MMBqGbMCmF-vv1rhboqdPO5bF6zrkJ1iNwLS7I02IP_LJHrXvfwJ-F2ZYJy3LeOO2ExUTLZK93bSeuWkL9ldQdFFU71Io8eGNnTEYr3TuHtzOYZhGo_7oHHBbH2XxZyobApoqf9R6B3UIM17APpQ/w640-h272/Wiper%20Blades.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Frank the Crankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08021995104993630048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1750224963253237984.post-143149112224749012024-01-05T19:29:00.000-08:002024-01-28T17:04:49.567-08:00Wild Horses<p> Check out this video I ran across while perusing the interwebs. It was created by Noah Bowman who is one heck of a talented artist!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="395" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/-sOQlRXuAHk" width="509" youtube-src-id="-sOQlRXuAHk"></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p>Frank the Crankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08021995104993630048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1750224963253237984.post-18545963800969077712024-01-01T07:52:00.000-08:002024-01-01T07:52:03.435-08:002024 - A Knew Year<p>It is once again a new year and it has become sort of a tradition here at Frank's Classic Car Blog that I try and predict what lies ahead in the upcoming twelve months. If my past predictions are any indication it would seem that I just might know what is in store for both donkeys, elephants, and the rest of the "basket of deplorables". There is a lot of fear mongering going on and tons of conspiracy theories floating around, mainly about aliens and AI. Everyone seems to know this or know that and most folks are getting to the point that they don't know what to believe. Without doing a deep dive let me just say this about 2024: Hold on, you ain't seen nothing yet. A year from now I can look back and say "I knew it!" or eat crow, and eating crow would be a lot better for what I think is in store for We the People.</p><p>In the new year I need to dedicate more time to this blog of mine. Some people may be looking for a distraction from all the white noise and Frank's Classic Car Blog aims to please. Expect updates on Project Yellowjacket, the "new" Amberlight Garage, and very possibly a new project. I also think that we are going to see a dip in classic car prices in 2024. I follow the market closely and have already seen a significant drop, especially on project cars. Bullishly I can also predict the following for this blog: hold on, you ain't seen nothing yet.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb1TQxzjlLRA5i72DJ0kwelH3HfF9VkhGdA9BpX4GxxmyQ7Ur-YZAFQEMDq0gjrpCfwaWqSfPSvLkr7SzxHuhLUqh8pikbjNov-D3xKxShBE1vwXcrHu9Yf6PQtP8lBZDG7uDnHubL5yIqltaaR0l6LhIn4NDPM7c4ZK7bFahE8_7sMuMD8VhqN_ZYdoI/s3264/20231228_094352.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb1TQxzjlLRA5i72DJ0kwelH3HfF9VkhGdA9BpX4GxxmyQ7Ur-YZAFQEMDq0gjrpCfwaWqSfPSvLkr7SzxHuhLUqh8pikbjNov-D3xKxShBE1vwXcrHu9Yf6PQtP8lBZDG7uDnHubL5yIqltaaR0l6LhIn4NDPM7c4ZK7bFahE8_7sMuMD8VhqN_ZYdoI/w614-h436/20231228_094352.jpg" width="614" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Frank the Crankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08021995104993630048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1750224963253237984.post-56327394675182981772023-12-31T20:42:00.000-08:002023-12-31T20:42:23.248-08:00FranktoidTM No. 25 - The Last Post of 2023<p> Wow, time really flies! Seems like just yesterday I was making New Year promises that I wouldn't keep. I'm starting to sound like a politician! Well I can honestly say that I got absolutely nothing done on Project Yellowjacket. I did manage to buy more parts for it and squirrel them away but that's about it. As far as the blog goes I have decided to completely turn it over to AI, that way I can claim plausible deniability about all of it's content. I mean AI is going to take over everything anyways, right? By the look of things I think the White House has already converted to AI. Switching gears, the Amberlight is in shambles with major delays on the addition and I have also decided to build a large covered car corral to store future projects, or maybe hide the large alien craft I discovered. Oops, did I say car corral? I meant horse corral. Right honey? Horse corral, that's what I'm building... Stay tuned for details on the car err, I mean horse corral. Now if you will excuse me I have a Zoom meeting with Giorgio Tsoukalos.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5IS77fnAYSY7UO_bFwkbkZlmu6U4Lxpua7Lb91cEALWoxaYcyYpmO9GhUeeP-rD3tNL5WszlU7SkxnmWQ3PPNG5vkRzyt3J8m2Hi0hqaMwIojil2jX73SzOu4qAUnqQvI9sB1IQ4LZDKYwAtk3_fer4McbAcvUA4rnVLAldajgepOd17G_drDujl7RZ8/s960/horse%20snout.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5IS77fnAYSY7UO_bFwkbkZlmu6U4Lxpua7Lb91cEALWoxaYcyYpmO9GhUeeP-rD3tNL5WszlU7SkxnmWQ3PPNG5vkRzyt3J8m2Hi0hqaMwIojil2jX73SzOu4qAUnqQvI9sB1IQ4LZDKYwAtk3_fer4McbAcvUA4rnVLAldajgepOd17G_drDujl7RZ8/w480-h640/horse%20snout.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><br /></p>Frank the Crankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08021995104993630048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1750224963253237984.post-90078572697775690642023-08-28T19:37:00.006-07:002023-11-06T18:31:03.268-08:00North Main - Chapter Five<p> Birds of a feather flock together, that would best sum up my friends, acquaintances,and people I knew growing up and especially during my mid to late teens. We ate, drank, and slept cars. Duane had (and still has) a '67 Pontiac GTO with a 400 cubic inch V-8, tri-power carburetors and a 4-speed manual trans. Jim had a '67 Chevy Camaro with a small block 350 equipped with a polished tunnel ram with dual quads. Bob had a '67 Chevy Chevelle with a 327 and a 4-speed, Paul had a '70 Dodge Challenger with a 440 and slapstick automatic, Zeke had a '67 Chevy El Camino with a 327 wearing big 'n little Cragar SS mags, Buddy had a '65 Chevy Chevelle Super Sport with a wicked 327, Roy had a '70 Chevy Chevelle SS 396 with a 4-speed, Dominic had a '70 Chevy El Camino with a 300 horsepower 350 wearing Daisy mags, Francesco had (and still has) a '65 Chevrolet Corvette with a 425 horsepower 396 big block and a 4-speed (that I actually got to drive!), Danny had a '67 Pontiac Firebird with a small block Chevy in it, lil' Erik had a '70 Chevy Chevelle that he equipped with hand controls due to his paralysis, and Rob had a '69 Pontiac Firebird. There of course were many more but these are the ones that stuck with me.</p><p>Many of these cars were regulars on the cruise circuit and more than a few raced at North Main. As was common during this era, a lot of guys were referred to by their last name. I also recall Downing and his pro street '71 Chevy Vega, Mix and his '65 Chevy Chevelle Malibu, Hudson and his '69 Chevy Z28 Camaro with nitrous, Lattica and his '67 Chevy Nova with a Doug Nash 5 speed, Atkins and his '70 Plymouth Roadrunner with a 440, Larkins and any number of his race ready big block Mopars, the Cruz brothers who had (and both still have) a '68 Chevy Camaro rs/ss and a '65 Ford Mustang fastback, and the Whittier Boys with their pro street '55 Ford T-Bird and small block Anglia. Like I had said, towards the end more and more purpose built race cars started showing up on trailers which really caught the attention of the local authorities.</p><p>Everyone that I knew also worked on their own rides. There was no internet to search for answers so networking among fellow enthusiasts was necessary if you didn't know the answer yourself. If I needed to talk to an expert I would just call them. I picked the brains of some of the best of the best. When I had a question about a Pontiac I called Nunzi Romano from Nunzi's Automotive or Ken Crocie from H-O Racing Specialties (whose son Kevin I would later work with at Super Shops). I called Bill Summer from Summer Brothers Racing when I had a question about my big block Chevy gear drive, George Spink when I had a fabrication question (it also helped that he lived just a few blocks from my parents), for camshaft questions I talked with either Jerry or Don Johanson from Howard's Cams and for high performance parts recommendations none other then Phil Braybrooks from J&M Speed Center. Sometimes you figured it out on the first try and other times it was trial and error. I vividly remember a recurring problem I was having on my '69 Chevelle. Just prior to my big block swap I was trying to squeeze out as much power as possible from the original 307 small block. The engine had been balanced and had a healthy Crane Cam in it. I wanted as much compression as possible so I had installed an early set of 194 small chamber heads that had been surfaced and port matched. To top it off I put on the recently released Edelbrock Performer intake manifold. The problem was that I was oil fouling plugs but only on a couple of cylinders. I pulled the heads off numerous times and had them checked. Each cylinder had good compression and I had installed the rings myself so I was leaning towards a collapsed oil control ring, but on two cylinders? What are the chances of that? More clues were revealed during the subsequent reassembly and testing. I was still getting oil fouling but now it had switched one of the cylinders! One of the previous suspect cylinders was now firing correctly with no sign of oil burning on the plug... what the heck! I was really confused now and needed to consult someone with a lot more mechanical experience than me, but who?</p><p>I went over to see my friend Jim as he had a lot of experience with small blocks. After explaining what was happening to my Chevelle motor he was as confused as I was but suggested that we go ask his neighbor Fred. Fred was quite a bit older then we were and was a GM line mechanic. He had decades of experience and always seemed to be working on a car when he was at home. After explaining to Fred what was happening to my motor he sat down and started asking me some questions. He was particularly interested in the heads and how much had been milled off of them. His educated guess was that the intake manifold was not sealing correctly and was pulling oil from the galley below the intake. I had never heard of this before and it never dawned on me that it was even possible. He told me what to look for so I went back to tear down the top of the motor. After removing the intake and carefully inspecting the gasket I spotted it. On the bottom side of the intake gasket, at the end that was closest to the oil galley, the gasket was wet with oil. I checked both the intake manifold and the head with a straight edge and also did a dry fit test on the intake to see how much clearance was between the intake and head mounting surface. It looked good until I put the cork sealing strips on the front and rear of the galley. With the intake in place the cork raised it up too far and there was my problem! Fred had suspected that the milled heads might be causing some problems and when I told him what I had discovered he told me to throw away the cork ends and use RTV silicone. I bought some fresh FelPro blue intake gaskets, a tube of Permatex silicone and the next morning proceeded to button everything back up.</p><p>That morning happened to be a Saturday so I got an early start in anticipation of cruising Market Street later that evening. My friend Johnny and his buddy Jose showed up and were soon helping me. After the initial start up and setting the timing I was ready for its shake down run. Johnny had ridden in my Chevelle numerous times so he kind of knew what to expect performance wise. Everyone climbed in and I took off, anxious to see and feel the results. The very first thing I noticed was the power, it was like a whole different motor! This motor was pulling hard! Johnny was shocked at the power difference and Jose was just sitting in the back seat, wide eyed with a smile on his face. I was really feeling good when all of a sudden the motor started losing power. I could feel it as it was happening and then I noticed the smoke. I immediately pulled over, leaving the engine idle while I got out and popped open the hood. It now had a noticeable miss at idle and was running rough, all the same symptoms as before! Man was I pissed off! I couldn't believe it but the same problem was back. All that work for nothing! I jumped back in and started to head back to the house. The motor seemed like it was getting worse and started loading up on me. I was at a red light waiting to turn right on Van Buren Blvd when the engine shut off. As I was cranking the starter to get it started again the light turns green and of course cars start honking at me. I get the engine to fire up, proceed to rev it to about 6500 rpm, and dump the clutch... right across from a Police car waiting at the intersection! Of course I did not see the cop car, I was too engrossed in getting the car started and getting back home. The Chevelle ended up getting sideways as I turned through the intersection and was billowing smoke from both the rear tires and the exhaust, but I'm sure the fuzz only saw the tire smoke. My two passengers saw the cop before I did and tried in vain to get me to lay off the gas pedal but I was hell bent on teaching that motor a lesson. There was so much smoke that I literally could only see the police car's red and blue lights before I saw the car itself so it was a good block or two before I pulled over. </p><p>Now at that point in my young life I had had my share of traffic tickets. Exhibition of speed, speeding, California stop (rolling through a stop sign), engaging in a speed contest, reckless driving, and too many fix-it tickets to count. Heck, I made John Milner from <i>American Graffiti</i> look like a choir boy. I was in serious danger of losing my drivers license and I thought this stunt was the final nail in the coffin. When the officer walked up to my window I felt my heart sink as he was not a city cop, he was a CHP Officer! Everyone knew that the Highway Patrol did not mess around. They did not pull people over to give them warnings or warm hugs, they are all business all the time, or so I was led to believe. The first thing he says to me was "What the heck were you thinking and what's your problem?!" I thought honesty was the best policy here so I started off with "I was not thinking, that's the problem" and then proceeded to tell him the <i>whole </i>story about the engine, which Johnny and Jose collaborated, right up to the very end when I lost my shit and dumped the clutch. The officer was very patient and listened to everything. After verifying that I had a valid driver's license and lecturing me on my disregard of my passenger's safety, he said he understood what I was saying and that I needed to think about how my actions can affect others. He then wished me luck on figuring out what was wrong with the engine and told me I was free to go! Wait, did I just get a "warning" from a CHP officer? No one I knew would believe me so I was glad I had two witnesses with me.</p><p>So it was back to the drawing board on the Chevelle's engine problem, or in my case back to talk with Fred. Fred was asking a lot more questions, this time it was about the gaskets. He had worked on more than a few Corvettes and they all had aluminum intake manifolds. He told me they used a different gasket than the cast iron intakes, it was a different material. That got me thinking and after another tear down I noticed the intake gasket had failed again, this time on multiple runners. I knew it was getting sufficient clamping force but the material still failed. Fred suspected it was too hard of a gasket material so he suggested I get a pair of GM intake gaskets that were specifically for a Corvette. I went down to the parts counter at De Anza Chevrolet and picked up a set. I noticed that the material was softer and seemed thicker so I was eager to try them out. It turned out that those gaskets did solve my engine's problem and a few years later Edelbrock issued a technical bulletin saying not to use FelPro blue gaskets on their aluminum intakes as leaks could develop. Go figure, we found that out before they did, the hard way!</p>Frank the Crankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08021995104993630048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1750224963253237984.post-44900150032581205972023-07-20T20:31:00.002-07:002023-09-20T19:35:45.642-07:00FranktoidTM No. 24 - AI Bloggers, The Future or Fiction?<p> Sometimes I really wonder about this blog. I strive to make it free of click bait, sponsored content, and "guest articles" which is really just someone trying to sell something. With the seeming rapid advancement of artificial intelligence, or AI for short, how long will it be before all the folks who are actually employed to write get replaced by AI? Fortunately I do not rely on my blogging for income, I do it as a hobby. I know, hard to believe that I actually enjoy writing, go figure.</p><p>Now AI might be able to churn out a fictional story or two, and maybe some technical papers and history based stuff, but how about legitimate classic car stuff? I use the term legitimate because AI cannot read minds or books (unless they are digital), "its" research is based strictly off the internet and human interaction, so therein lies the problem. We all know almost everything on the interwebs is not always true and a lot of so-called "experts" have to be taken with a grain of salt. If the past few years have taught us anything its that you can't always believe what the media is telling you or what you are seeing. (think deep fake and AI videos)</p><p>Imagine AI trying to write a story like <a href="https://www.amberlightgarage.com/2019/12/north-main-prologue.html" target="_blank">North Main</a> and pulling all of its research from internet articles, videos, and movies. AI is not real, as the name implies, it is artificial. Its the intelligence part that is controversial. Once I finish writing <i>North Main</i> I suppose AI could could find it, copy what ever it wants to and re-write it artificially, but in my opinion, that is just another form of plagiarism or copyright infringement and that begs the question: can AI even be held accountable? Technically case law does not apply to it, let that sink in for a minute... </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIIOXL4KeaIKhrlV1n4IL8mPJOJ4UaCdry_k7Mkhn1mKqE0GUDqk2sn1NqVjjPhzEuNJdgAtC78jiE_IKK672DfU_Z1XomiE1Gfvc7mswfcrkcMTd-Un3sj1djamex20vcG6OAxXjCF_zxywiDXnW5NB__sLB2oskmS1inWhAMZHebR8HqUx_t4uvbh38/s526/FB_IMG_1686965963406.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="515" data-original-width="526" height="626" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIIOXL4KeaIKhrlV1n4IL8mPJOJ4UaCdry_k7Mkhn1mKqE0GUDqk2sn1NqVjjPhzEuNJdgAtC78jiE_IKK672DfU_Z1XomiE1Gfvc7mswfcrkcMTd-Un3sj1djamex20vcG6OAxXjCF_zxywiDXnW5NB__sLB2oskmS1inWhAMZHebR8HqUx_t4uvbh38/w640-h626/FB_IMG_1686965963406.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Frank the Crankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08021995104993630048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1750224963253237984.post-40542292479017315032023-03-09T18:30:00.000-08:002023-03-09T18:30:54.840-08:00FranktoidTM No. 23 - Triggered<p> A lot of people associate the word "triggered" with experiencing a strong emotional reaction of fear, shock, anger, or worry, especially if they are made to remember something bad that has happened in the past, myself included. The trigger that is about to unfold here is not bad, emotional perhaps, and is best described by another definition of triggered which is a particular action, process, or situation. In my case is was a particular action that triggered me.</p><p>I was going through old photographs and ran across one that was taken back in the early 90's. I had completely forgotten about this photo but man, did it ever bring back a flood of memories. To almost anyone else it is just an old, grainy photo. But to me it speaks volumes, as it includes my first house, my first real garage (pre Amberlight), my daily driver '69 Chevelle Malibu, my project car - a 1966 Chevy Impala SS convertible big block car, our '85 Honda Accord family car, and barely visible - another '66 Impala, this one was a hardtop ex-street racer aptly named "The White Whale". I can even see my Craftsman air compressor, still in it's packing crate, that I had purchased at Sears. Who would of thought one photograph could trigger so many memories? </p><p>I think photos are one of the more powerful triggers out there, both good and bad. I sympathize with those that see the bad ones. I am sure that old pictures of the Twin Towers in New York bother a lot of folks, especially if they lost a loved one there. For myself, I do not like seeing photos of the Mandalay Bay Hotel in Las Vegas. My son was at the Route 91 Harvest Music Festival in 2017 and almost lost his life in the deadliest mass shooting in United States history. To help deal with the stress I literally <a href="http://www.amberlightgarage.com/2017/10/i-lost-my-breath-and-then-fate-stepped.html" target="_blank">wrote about it</a> the next day. Sometimes words have a healing effect, at least for me.</p><p>The reason I was going through my old photos was to organize them and put them into photo albums. Remember those? I think it's so much better to be able to access your photos in an album then to keep them filed away in a box. I consider myself lucky that the vast majority of my photos are physical photographs, not JPEG files. Remember that the next time you are searching for a pic on your phone or PC. Digital does come in handy but I think there can be a balance between the two. So if you have some old photos tucked away, go dig them out and trigger yourself, in a good way. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6jaW5IPwME7tdnklpG44gzlRK9YKmQe3pKfXhkSkuxPKEtz6e8UIlAt63gSPxXutWzbV2nfjKTx5CYQgofKtuZABAkLptSWhAwomC5KsQA7gnvBV5TMRlYT7GmHbSMIGA79P-mg3nuqC0txOR6wDCQBe07V9Qgn9NlWsPIQTl5z6l5g67VV4F5xd7/s1729/Donald%20Garage.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1129" data-original-width="1729" height="418" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6jaW5IPwME7tdnklpG44gzlRK9YKmQe3pKfXhkSkuxPKEtz6e8UIlAt63gSPxXutWzbV2nfjKTx5CYQgofKtuZABAkLptSWhAwomC5KsQA7gnvBV5TMRlYT7GmHbSMIGA79P-mg3nuqC0txOR6wDCQBe07V9Qgn9NlWsPIQTl5z6l5g67VV4F5xd7/w640-h418/Donald%20Garage.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">L to R - 69 Malibu, 66 Impala SS, 85 Accord, 66 Impala Hardtop</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>Frank the Crankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08021995104993630048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1750224963253237984.post-72064260492669743302023-02-11T21:19:00.004-08:002024-02-02T08:25:17.314-08:00Death of the Firing Order<p> Quick, off the top of your head, can you tell me the cylinder firing order of the pre-LS Chevrolet V-8? I have the inkling that only the older generation of gear heads can recite this numerical order by memory. Having worked in the parts industry for decades I knew the cylinder firing orders of GM, Ford, and Chrysler engines by heart, but that was long before a certain device was invented. What is this device that I speak of? None other then the "smartphone" you are holding right now or the PC in your house. Back in the day auto parts stores had catalog racks, not computers like today. To prevent having to look up the same part number time after time, we memorized things, lots of things. One of the most famous examples of auto related memorized data was in the 1992 movie <i>My Cousin Vinny</i>, where Mona Lisa Vito says: "Chevy didn't make a 327 in '55, the 327 didn't come out till '62. And it wasn't offered in the Bel Air with a four-barrel carb till '64. However, in 1964, the correct ignition timing would be four degrees before top-dead-center." Given the fact that this movie was released prior to the availability of search engines like Google,Yahoo, and even AltaVista, plus during the infancy of the internet itself, the writers really did their research and provided an accurate line for the movie. </p><p>Years ago I remember reading this quote by some self-proclaimed expert: "Why memorize when I can Google it?" In reality it was probably an ad hoc created by Google, much like the very early subliminal message in the 2002 movie <i>Maid in Manhattan</i>, starring Jennifer Lopez as Marisa Ventura. In that movie her characters son, Ty, asks her why Simon and Garfunkel broke up. Marisa responds with "You got me, <u>you can Google it</u> at school." In under one generation society has been conditioned to "Google it", or the equivalent, to find the answers to their questions. The aforementioned smartphone is now actually smarter and growing more intelligent with each new version that is released. Remember the CRAY-2 super computer from the 80's? Well your Apple iPhone 12 is 5000 times faster then the CRAY-2 and 5500 pounds lighter! Think about that for a second, or Google it.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXOuHRaaGSriWj7TpaIEExcchgD7bbaHcuGax_pxEcLrEbOezjviMi2eNSFDQ-2YNoCkXSj8BjLoFUnr4dRPayob9BRa-QWrBHsu24vZtMRGKgLIeVHqcjL16I0ipcfsWdcYAuaoQCP1dB-4lNVIQKrZQRIPIDFi36TtQYfF8lwrd6cNWIH8qr7vo6/s600/SBC_Firing_Order_Shirt.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="600" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXOuHRaaGSriWj7TpaIEExcchgD7bbaHcuGax_pxEcLrEbOezjviMi2eNSFDQ-2YNoCkXSj8BjLoFUnr4dRPayob9BRa-QWrBHsu24vZtMRGKgLIeVHqcjL16I0ipcfsWdcYAuaoQCP1dB-4lNVIQKrZQRIPIDFi36TtQYfF8lwrd6cNWIH8qr7vo6/w640-h640/SBC_Firing_Order_Shirt.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Frank the Crankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08021995104993630048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1750224963253237984.post-88842042299462983202023-01-01T19:40:00.001-08:002023-02-13T21:49:58.845-08:00A New Year, Maybe<p>It is the first day of a new year and I will once again go out on a limb to predict what the rest of 2023 holds in store for us, John and Jane Q Public. I think I can sum it up in just a few words: More of the same. That's the vibe that I'm getting, and if my past predictions are any indication, it will probably be spot-on. The "new normal" is becoming just that and it's a little disconcerting. For all you truthers out there I see a lot of inconvenient proof coming out that will open a lot of folks eyes to what is really going on around them. I'll stop right there lest I wax on about politics and really do a deep dive, and that's not what this blog page is about. </p><p>I will also predict that there will more content posted on this blog for your reading enjoyment and 100 percent free of charge! Now that I am retired it should be pretty easy, right? Ha! I'm still unpacking from our big move. On top of that the new Amberlight Garage is a disaster plus I am in the planning stages of a major addition to it, but not to worry, "<i>good things come to those that wait</i>". For those wondering if they can use that quote on their significant others and their to-do list, the answer is unequivocally NO.</p><p>The new year hopefully holds some major progress on Project Yellowjacket as well. Now that I am down to just one project I can put the proverbial nose to the grindstone and git-r-done! The plan has always been to put a 455 in it, which I am still in the process of gathering just the right parts for, but I started wondering about the 350 that is currently in it. When I bought the car back in 2014 I was told that the engine did run but had been sitting for at least a decade due to a major oil leak. I did discover that the oil leak was actually in the transmission. One time when I tried to add oil to the trans, the ATF ran out onto the ground almost as fast as I was pouring it in! In theory the engine should run if everything checks out okay. Time will tell and maybe you will see a "first start in 20 years" video... maybe.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqqdiz-8LrJdnx3dKI9q9C73zqvN8gt130enI8KlBSsmUSHoUnlGtFRZvhIsNPFJZrbFjmmbjxuqdEvsWowZXzUjb9Ztny5GLVBVODRGAJ2wtOj6_xATRGouo5gwlPhFedXtbXYh28qu8wd9MNAp1g9572vp-wXWPyw5PLwpQJYg4dpNaD7F3xQ9j/s822/FB_IMG_1625631439606.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="822" height="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqqdiz-8LrJdnx3dKI9q9C73zqvN8gt130enI8KlBSsmUSHoUnlGtFRZvhIsNPFJZrbFjmmbjxuqdEvsWowZXzUjb9Ztny5GLVBVODRGAJ2wtOj6_xATRGouo5gwlPhFedXtbXYh28qu8wd9MNAp1g9572vp-wXWPyw5PLwpQJYg4dpNaD7F3xQ9j/w400-h350/FB_IMG_1625631439606.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Frank the Crankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08021995104993630048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1750224963253237984.post-21360127573654143352022-12-05T20:11:00.002-08:002023-11-09T19:33:37.001-08:00North Main - Chapter Four<p> Although I did not have a lot of extra money I immediately short listed a few upgrades that I wanted to do on my recently acquired Chevelle Malibu. Nothing could be done until I paid my dad back the extra money that I borrowed to make that purchase, so that made the wait to fix up my Malibu seem even longer. I knew that new rims and tires were out of the question due to my meager financial means. I had dreams of Centerline or Cragar Super Trick wheels along with BF Goodrich Radial T/A tires, but with only a part-time after school job, I would just have to keep dreaming. </p><p>The first planned modification to my '69 was dual exhaust as the factory single pipe and stock muffler were just way too quiet for me. I had already flipped over the air cleaner lid for "increased performance" and when I floored the accelerator you could hear the Rochester two barrel sucking for dear life against the exhaust which sounded like a vacuum cleaner about to explode. As I drove down to Jerl's Muffler Shop early one Saturday morning I had my mind set on new dual Cherry Bomb glass pack mufflers, dumped just before the rear axle with chrome tips. After I got there and my car was over the pit (which looked like an empty swimming pool) the owner came into the waiting room and told me he was out of Cherry Bombs. I was still a little naive about cars and especially exhaust systems but I had really wanted those glass packs. It's not like I could just drive home either because my old exhaust system had already been removed, so I had to make a decision fast! I think the owner sensed my hesitation (and disappointment) so he suggested Sonic Turbo mufflers. He told me that they would sound better on my Chevy and they were cheaper then the Cherry Bombs. Wow, cheaper and they will sound better. I agreed to the Sonic Turbos and also decided to get a set of Gabriel High Jacker air shocks installed, which just happened to be on sale according to the sign painted on the shops window. When the work was done and he drove my car up front to the waiting area I could not believe my ears! It was like a different engine had been installed because it sounded so good. The air shocks were about half way filled and now instead of the rear squatting it was raised up. The stock rims and bias ply tires now looked ridiculous and that prompted me to come up with a solution for procuring different wheels for my Malibu.</p><p>Custom wheels were all the rage and as such there was a glut of factory wheels available, rally wheels to be specific. I wanted 15 inch rims for my ride and as wide as possible. This necessitated me sourcing used rims from a Corvette. I had seen a few Chevelle's while cruising that had Corvette rally wheels on them and I really liked the look. The current trend was "big n' littles", that is big wide meats in the rear and skinny front runners. This was the precursor to the pro street trend where cars were back halved (tubbed with a narrowed rear end) to fit the widest tires possible in the rear paired with skinny front tires. Although the "big n' little" look was the general goal for my Malibu, I was open to other options. In my mind, anything was better than the stock 14 inch rims with hubcaps!</p><p>As soon as I got home from the muffler shop I grabbed the Saturday news paper, specifically the classifieds section. Under the Automotive Parts column I found a listing for a set of 14 inch US Mags, some Mopar rally wheels, and some Keystone Mag wheels along with other various car parts. I was debating calling about the Keystone wheels when I spotted an ad for an upcoming antique car swap meet (the largest on the west coast!) and it was happening the next weekend in Pomona Ca. That was perfect! I would have a little more money by then and my chances were good that I would score some nice rims there. Plans were made to attend the swap meet and next weekend could not come fast enough!</p><p>Now I had been to the swap meet a few times before in search of parts for my Triumph Spitfire so I knew what to expect. I learned that you either arrive real early (like when sellers are still unpacking) to score a deal or stay until closing to find a killer deal on something that the person does not want to pack back up. The problem with the latter is that you take the chance of missing out on the part you want because someone else already ponied up the cash and wasn't a tightwad like you. Because of my budget I decided to take the tightwad route and arrived late to the meet to see what I could find. There were a lot of custom wheels for sale but most were complete sets and were priced only a little cheaper then what I had already priced out at the Super Shops and Sears. I saw plenty of 14 inch rallys and quite a few single 15 inch but so far the Corvette specific wheels remained elusive. As I was perusing the rows there were tons of parts tempting me, but I was on a mission and needed to stay focused. I walked past polished Edelbrock tunnel rams, aluminum Holley 4 barrel intakes and double pumper carbs, Pete Jackson gear drives, Crane roller rockers, Moroso gold anodized valve covers and air cleaners, Milodon oil pans, Sig Erson cams, Mallory dual point distributors, Hooker headers, and almost everything else I could possibly want for my Chevelle. As I rounded the corner to yet another row I spotted the distinct shark nose of a late 60's Vett in a double wide seller's space. It looked like the guy was parting out more than a few Corvettes and had tons of parts. There were a lot of rally rims, enough to make a set, along with center caps and trim rings. I asked the seller how much for a set of four, silently hoping for a good deal because he had a crap load of stuff to pack back up. He told me $150 or he had a complete set of takeoffs with tires for $250. I didn't see any with tires but before I could ask he started to roll them out from his trailer to show me. Before my eyes was a set of 15x8 Corvette rally wheels complete with trim rings, caps,and wearing a set of Firestone Wide Oval tires. I looked them over quickly and bought them almost as fast. I finally had new rims and tires for my Chevelle! Well, maybe not brand new but new to me.</p><p>Temptation got the best of me and I ended up picking up a few more "necessities" while I was at the swap meet. Along with the rally wheels I bought a set of Edelbrock finned aluminum valve covers and a set of Stinger yellow jacket spark plug wires. The wires were needed because I had noticed that the Malibu was still wearing its original plug wires from 1969! The next few weekends were spent working on the Chevelle instead of cruising. The Corvette rally wheels fit like a glove and totally changed the look of the car, as it now had sort of a NASCAR vibe with its wide steel wheels all the way around. I picked up gaskets, chrome wing nuts, and wire separators from the local auto parts store to get the valve covers and spark plug wires installed. Before I started putting the new parts on I drove the car down to the local self-serve car wash to clean the engine. Even back then they didn't want you washing your greasy engine in the wash bay, but those high pressure wands did a great job of cleaning, so there were a lot of folks who just ignored the posted signs. After the engine and engine bay were clean it was a good time to detail them. Looking back I can pinpoint this moment as my first experience with the "slippery slope" of automotive repair. Painting the engine led to painting the entire engine bay, then the underside of the hood, control arms and then most of the front suspension. As items that were in the way were removed they were either cleaned, painted or both. I took the phrase "<i>any job worth doing is worth doing well</i>" to the extreme. It was well worth it as the end result turned out great and completely transformed the entire engine compartment of the Chevelle. </p><p>My Malibu went through many iterations as I kept adding more speed parts. Aluminum intake manifold, 4 barrel carburetor, dual point distributor, larger valve heads, headers, and the automatic transmission swapped out for a 4 speed manual. Although I cruised the car a lot I never really raced it. Oh sure, I was challenged a few times but with only 307 cubic inches under the hood I knew better. In its final form the engine was probably pushing three hundred horsepower which was no match against all the 327's and 350's. It wasn't until I scored a killer deal on a big block that the Malibu made its way to North Main to see what it could do...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3BK38LKw4GncrwoWuIesii2RWDYxFIXZrexFygQfchFXRQEhdh0HxG3-cdz3aN9a0IF_R0WeSdDduF94DXgd54IHjj5EXml3s4NgJRXiEhih4ADR6JSjfq_hYBAqMGamuGWFHdboaa40/s1152/My+69+Malibu+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1088" data-original-width="1152" height="604" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3BK38LKw4GncrwoWuIesii2RWDYxFIXZrexFygQfchFXRQEhdh0HxG3-cdz3aN9a0IF_R0WeSdDduF94DXgd54IHjj5EXml3s4NgJRXiEhih4ADR6JSjfq_hYBAqMGamuGWFHdboaa40/w640-h604/My+69+Malibu+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Frank the Crankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08021995104993630048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1750224963253237984.post-56916943919827475732022-09-24T20:11:00.004-07:002023-02-13T21:39:06.261-08:00FranktoidTM No. 22 - We Tired<p>Well it has been just over a year since I put fingers to keyboard (the modern equivalent of pen to paper) and boy what a year it has been! Regular readers of this blog might recall my <a href="http://www.amberlightgarage.com/2020/12/happy-new-gear.html" target="_blank">post</a> predicting about 2021. I think I got almost everything right except one item, I failed to predict my retirement. I will spare you all the details but suffice to say that I had to make some big decisions in a relatively short period of time and that also included a major move out of state. Yes, the Amberlight Garage has officially moved and let me tell you that was no easy task! With all of those things going on my blogging duties got put on the back burner. Even though I am really working more being "retired" then when I was actually working, I figured I better get back to blogging and give everyone a quick update. </p><p>Project Yellowjacket was removed from it's mothballed state and shipped to my new location of the Amberlight Garage where it is safely cocooned until I finish unpacking and organizing the new digs. The 455 build is getting closer to completion with the recent addition of a set of aluminum heads and also a trick oiling system from Bernard Mondello Racing Enterprises. Mondello's oil system includes a special oil pan, windage tray, blue printed oil pump, and a modified main cap. By the way, Bernard is the son of the late Joe Mondello, aka "Dr. Oldsmobile",who was a cylinder head expert and performance guru. I also decided on the wheel and tire combo for Yellowjacket but only got as far as getting the rear wheels mounted before I had to start packing things up. </p><p>More chapters of <i>North Main</i> are also in the works for those interested in my book that I am writing and sharing here. I just need to find some more time, but there is so much other work that needs to be done! I have also come to the conclusion that I have been pronouncing "retired" wrong, it's actually "we tired", literally.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg30ypmtlJO-EdFzH7HsWugybC-qWUPv1Abv-cUYIQgWviH--CkpuV4ot1zAGBzxTc-zqunDb1inrJqazg_lQ-VxdSPvm8Kzbg5syQMstXW-S6SV7z-LHnI6RRdMBeFuWWYeflsNeKbNhLe92kGGNU6kSuemZUTsWrkjmGQnEMaBKxal9KqxkdSmvqk/s2000/received_2862270623906842.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1488" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg30ypmtlJO-EdFzH7HsWugybC-qWUPv1Abv-cUYIQgWviH--CkpuV4ot1zAGBzxTc-zqunDb1inrJqazg_lQ-VxdSPvm8Kzbg5syQMstXW-S6SV7z-LHnI6RRdMBeFuWWYeflsNeKbNhLe92kGGNU6kSuemZUTsWrkjmGQnEMaBKxal9KqxkdSmvqk/w476-h640/received_2862270623906842.jpeg" width="476" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p>Frank the Crankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08021995104993630048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1750224963253237984.post-22360687303300214762021-07-20T21:37:00.001-07:002023-09-02T18:54:25.847-07:00North Main - Chapter Three<p>The very first car that I purchased, with the help from my dad, was a 1962 Triumph Spitfire convertible. It was also my first project car as it was not running when I bought it and needed extensive work to make it road worthy again. I can't remember how much I paid for it but it wasn't much. Everything I bought for this car came from a junkyard, including a "new" engine for it. Back then the local junkyards were literal treasure troves. Triumphs were not that popular but I had no problems locating the parts I needed. The Spitfire was still quite a ways from being road worthy during the time I was driving the family station wagon, so I was eagerly looking for a running car to replace it with. To make matters worse, the wagon was having trouble starting in the mornings, especially if it was cold out. It was on one of those wintry days that our whale of a wagon would not start and that forced me to take the bus to school. My bus trip misery suddenly turned around while I was walking home from the bus stop. Sitting there in plain site I spotted it, the car of my dreams.<br />
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Now I had walked this same route many times before and had even caught a glimpse of this car parked in the garage a few times, but I had never seen it parked outside. I cautiously walked up the driveway to get a closer look and realized that the garage door was open. Resting comfortably inside the single car garage was a brand new Buick, still wearing the dealership's paper plates. A virtual light bulb suddenly clicked on above my head. The older neighbor lady who lived here must have recently purchased a new car and now had to park her old one outside. Suddenly my mind was reeling a mile a minute. Did she want to sell it? The car looked filthy. Had anyone else see it sitting here in <i>plain</i> sight? Maybe it doesn't run anymore. Why didn't she trade it in? I have some money saved up. What if she won't sell it? I'm going to knock on her door. Which is exactly what I did.<br />
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The car is question was a 1969 Chevelle Malibu 2 door hard top. The car was literally owned by a little old lady, only she wasn't from Pasadena. I had spotted this car around town every now and then, parked at the grocery store, at church, the post office and driving ultra slow between them all. This Chevelle was completely stock and still wore it's original paint. It was equipped with a 307 two barrel V-8 and a Power Glide transmission. The interior was mint and the body straight as an arrow. This was the closest I had ever been to it now that it was sitting out in the driveway. I peeked through the driver's door window and looked at the speedometer. To my amazement it read just over 26000 miles! I knew the car was too clean for the speedometer to have rolled over and my suspicions were confirmed later when I talked to the owner.<br />
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After knocking on the door and waiting for what seemed like an eternity for someone to answer, I was greeted by a little old lady who didn't look tall enough to me to even be able to drive. I nervously blurted out my question, asking her if she was interested in selling her car parked in the driveway. She looked at me sternly and said "Why, are <b><i>you</i></b> interested in purchasing it?"<br />
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I wanted a car so bad I could taste it but I didn't want her to know that. I gulped and said "yes ma'am" and then squinted, almost as if by instinct, like she was going to yell at me. Well, she didn't yell at me but instead opened her screen door and stepped outside to talk with me. "You know, you are not the only one interested in my car." she said matter-of-factly. "Oh" I said dejectedly, "Is it sold already?" I tentatively asked. "No", she said, "but the mailman is interested in it and offered me five hundred dollars." Before I could answer she continued "but I don't like him very much, he pesters me all the time." Suddenly I felt a glimmer of hope as it dawned on me that I might still have a chance of buying the Chevelle. Five hundred dollars? I didn't have that! Despair started to wash over me and I sort of mumbled to her that I only had two hundred dollars saved up. She didn't say anything so I blurted out that I could give her two hundred dollars and make payments if that was okay. After a brief pause she said "I'll take three hundred dollars, just pay me when you have all the money." Without so much as a thought I quickly agreed, thanked her a few too many times, and ran straight home.</p><p>Now all I needed to do was come up with an additional hundred bucks and quick! Even though my elderly neighbor told me to wait until I had all the money I was in panic mode. What if someone else talked to her about the car? What if they had all the money? What if she actually liked them? Quickly a plan formulated in my head. I went to my room and recounted my savings - again, and again like it had somehow reproduced. I don't know what I was thinking, it's not like the money was rabbits and it was going to multiply. That night at dinner I broached the subject with trepidation. Even though it my dad who always lent me money, for whatever reason I would always talk to my mother first, which also was always a mistake. But this involved a little more then just money, I had to convince them to let me actually buy a car! I quickly formulated a plan. Now I had been taking the bus due to the starting problems with our station wagon so I casually told my mom that I had to be up early again in order to catch the bus on time. This caught my dad's attention (as I had hoped) and he asked if the wagon was acting up again. I told him yes and then casually rolled off my tongue "but I found a car today for sale and it's real cheap." My dad had barely said "how cheap?" when my mother interjected "we don't need another car!" I was actually counting on this reaction. I quickly said that I wanted to buy it myself, to which mom replied disdainfully "<b>you</b> don't have any money!" Cautiously ignoring my mother I turned toward my dad and told him it was three hundred dollars and I had two hundred saved. "Where did <b>you</b> get two hundred dollars?" blurted my mother incredulously. Still ignoring her I told my dad that all I needed to borrow was one hundred dollars and I could buy it tonight! "A hundred dollars! What do <b>you</b> think we are, a bank?!" my mother practically shouted. Dad, unfazed, finally asked me what kind of car it was. "It's a Chevelle Malibu" I said, "1969". He looked at me from across the table and asked how it ran. Oops! In my rush to make a deal with the neighbor I had completely forgot to ask her about it's running condition. I had to think fast. "I still need to test drive it" I said, "I was thinking maybe you could come along." Dad thought for a moment and then said "probably so" and it was at that moment that I knew I stood a chance of actually pulling this off and getting the car. Sure, mom griped some more but the clencher for my dad was when he learned that it was located just down the street.</p><p>Dad also wanted to go with me to make sure I was not buying a pile of junk. I didn't mind at all, in fact I welcomed it as I knew he had a lot of mechanical experience. We walked down the street together and as we approached the neighbor's house I pointed to it and told my dad that's where the car is located. He told me he knew the lady's late husband and use to talk with him on occasion. We were halfway down her driveway when all of a sudden I noticed the car was gone! I stopped dead in my tracks, staring in disbelief. Her garage door was slightly open and I could see the new Buick was still in there! Oh no, she sold my car! How could she do that? I was about to start explaining what happened to my dad so I turned around to face him and then there it was, like magic, suddenly turning into the entrance of the driveway. The Chevelle was so quiet I never heard it approaching. We stood off to the side as the old lady idled past us and into the parking spot. Before she could even get all the way out of the car I approached her and asked if the car was still for sale because I had brought my dad to look at it. She flatly said "of course it is, I just wanted to make sure the gas tank was full when you bought it." When <i>I</i> bought it? Those words slowly sunk into my brain as I stared at the car like it was the first one I had ever seen.<br /></p><p>My dad and the neighbor started talking like they were old friends catching up. I didn't pay too much attention as I was busy fawning over the Chevelle. Soon she handed my dad the keys and said when we were finished test driving it she would be in the house. Dad sauntered over to the passenger side to get in and I wasted no time jumping behind the wheel. I will never forget sitting in that car for the first time. To this day that instrument panel is my favorite and also,in my opinion, one of the best looking ones that GM ever produced. As we drove the car around the neighborhood I was being super cautious and my dad was listening for noises or anything out of the ordinary. The car was really quiet and rode smoothly even though it still wore bias ply tires. The black interior was in mint condition and the Olympic Gold paint was faded but still intact with no rust. It was equipped with only two options, power steering and an automatic transmission, and even had a radio delete plate. My dad asked me if I liked it (was he kidding?) and told me I would have to pay the insurance on it. I eagerly agreed but wondered if there were going to be any more stipulations. The test drive was over before I knew it and soon we were back knocking at the owners door.</p><p>Before long we were sitting at her kitchen table looking at all of the car's original documents and receipts that she had kept throughout the years. It was the first time I had ever seen a General Motors protect-o-plate but I had no idea what it even was. The transaction went pretty smooth with my dad writing her a check for the entire amount with the understanding that I would give him my $200 dollars that I had saved. "Well it looks like you have yourself a new car" she said, "take good care of it." "I sure will" I said, "thanks for selling it to me." As we were walking out she added "I'm sure the mailman will see it parked in your driveway so don't listen to him if he says anything." "Sure thing" I told her but I was already lost in thought of how I was going to fix up <i>my</i> Chevelle... </p>Frank the Crankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08021995104993630048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1750224963253237984.post-69596932474865746802021-07-01T09:39:00.000-07:002021-07-01T09:47:25.276-07:00Kid Rock<p> This awesome video was released in 2015! Shows how much I was paying attention... You really need to check out all the cool classic cars that are featured in it...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="359" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/WTCnno-3EGE" width="483" youtube-src-id="WTCnno-3EGE"></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p>Frank the Crankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08021995104993630048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1750224963253237984.post-63671718389482619302021-06-21T12:38:00.000-07:002021-06-21T12:38:03.952-07:00Ellie's Garage<p> I ran across this video the other day and just had to share....</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="326" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ogrccLhRrz0" width="484" youtube-src-id="ogrccLhRrz0"></iframe></div><br /><p>If this caught your interest like it did me, you really need to check out all of Ellie's videos <a href="https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCLwRD8MrXqBgaTas4kGSfrA" target="_blank">here on YouTube.</a><br /></p>Frank the Crankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08021995104993630048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1750224963253237984.post-14845576922229759682020-12-31T23:11:00.001-08:002021-01-01T19:27:04.468-08:00Happy New Gear<p> As I write this people across the United States are starting to ring in the new year, starting from the east coast and continuing to the west. I can say with a fair amount of certainty that most folks, myself included, are eager to kiss 2020 goodbye and usher in 2021 with high hopes. This blog has been many things to me: a sounding board, mental therapy, reference, a personal history source, and I have accurately nailed many "firsts" on these very pages. Just a warning: this is one of those posts where I go "off subject" but I feel a strong need to type out some of these thoughts that have been building up in my head, lest I burst. So you are probably wondering, just as I am, what 2021 has in store for us. I hesitate to predict the following but I feel it must be said. I really hope I can look back on this someday and say how wrong I was...</p><p>Let me begin by saying that 2021 will be no 2019, that is, as much as I feel we all want things to go back to the way they were the simple truth is they won't, at least not for quite a while. According to some sources maybe never, depending on who ends up leading our country. The virus or new wave of viruses will get worse. It is already happening. Division will be deep and distrust will be rampant. It is already happening. People will reach their breaking point. It is already happening. I have already seen events scheduled for next spring cancelled. Others have cancelled their physical events and switched to "virtual' ones instead. What do they know that we don't? Fear and loathing will be the new mantra if certain factions have their way. I hate being Johnny Raincloud but almost all indicators are pointing in this direction. </p><p>So what can we do? If you are religious, pray like you have never prayed before. Heck, even if you aren't that religious pray anyway. We need all the help we can get. Email your Congressman and Senator to tell them your concerns. If they get enough emails they will start to pay attention to the people that elected them. Remember they work for us. Don't be afraid of the truth, no matter what it turns out to be. Keep an open mind and listen to your gut. Just because you don't want to hear a certain version of events does not mean that there is not validity in it. Demand sources, proof, and do your own vetting. Forget about "anonymous sources", "an inside source", "spoke on condition of anonymity", and other similar crap. In short, do some of your own homework. 2021 is not the year to trust just anyone feeding you information, especially social media.</p><p> In closing I would like to say that I am still holding out hope that the new year will bring back some normalcy. With that said and shifting gears, I will now return this page back to normal. Back to cool car stuff, trivia, stories, and of course updates on my project car. Here is to a Happy New Gear!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2kC47oO5tGyjH-muys49jtShnjFQU5s_3TKhtwqoFZH6teFXKNK_FIwi-mLNrbwQyCpV_pTSnmv5fuGu4LshAmBzPIwP7FVhuWLI8uklAO8AbWomdSZh8qFUTkONWAQ3P6qL06-KbbAQ/s500/Mater+new+year.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="385" data-original-width="500" height="492" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2kC47oO5tGyjH-muys49jtShnjFQU5s_3TKhtwqoFZH6teFXKNK_FIwi-mLNrbwQyCpV_pTSnmv5fuGu4LshAmBzPIwP7FVhuWLI8uklAO8AbWomdSZh8qFUTkONWAQ3P6qL06-KbbAQ/w640-h492/Mater+new+year.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Frank the Crankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08021995104993630048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1750224963253237984.post-15604413099129507962020-09-23T22:14:00.006-07:002020-09-24T21:36:13.192-07:00Time Warp Update<p>Wow, where does the time go? As I wrote this my latest project car, Time Warp, was pretty much finished. Actually, are project cars really ever finished? Lets just say that I had done about as much to it as I wanted to do! It has been quite the journey getting my '56 to it's current status. I was forced to address issues with every repair that I made. As soon as I would fix one item I would notice something else. I almost considering re-naming the car "Pandora's Box" due to the seemingly never ending repairs that were needed. Many a weekend thrash ended with a cold one, what I referred to as Miller Tyme!</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj76WX4VPWCc9Y_g1lA4jjQEcQXI_CCLnyoNAxYDO6cP9LBhfXrK6RbSMYRDGW3twDJzhMJhk3PdptoJXLlcEa_ejC3HXV4k8DnPx4XVxTcXPSaPRRLzx7BxCeyZv00U3l9oWE4qQNMZE/s1080/Miller+Tyme.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj76WX4VPWCc9Y_g1lA4jjQEcQXI_CCLnyoNAxYDO6cP9LBhfXrK6RbSMYRDGW3twDJzhMJhk3PdptoJXLlcEa_ejC3HXV4k8DnPx4XVxTcXPSaPRRLzx7BxCeyZv00U3l9oWE4qQNMZE/w640-h640/Miller+Tyme.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miller Tyme<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>I managed to take Time Warp to a few cars and coffee events during the shake down of the drive train. All was well and the car performed flawlessly. I thought a lot of folks would be interested in the engine compartment but it was the patina in the paint that drew the most comments! </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk6mz8coSIY1sikOyR-iGy4A6kZGSdeXVAmpHdHzBG2eb-qjBOa8AeCECbmCV06QnLAgr4vXN6AZ35MTco4LgzM2_Be8UE1nl0f37_G13gzDIT9_Ww-xX3A_UFA7ylFV_uUXZvAAAyLwc/s2048/DSCN4425.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk6mz8coSIY1sikOyR-iGy4A6kZGSdeXVAmpHdHzBG2eb-qjBOa8AeCECbmCV06QnLAgr4vXN6AZ35MTco4LgzM2_Be8UE1nl0f37_G13gzDIT9_Ww-xX3A_UFA7ylFV_uUXZvAAAyLwc/w640-h480/DSCN4425.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">327 CID<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ_aY5qs8rAhiwPXHLhs4wsyO_zwz1V-VShNQr8UwF_8cNHno4n9DVW4WxYYLWsfcPugpnYTv_xn-fnJLTDdbxf9gDcCGh2niMn44JESH6GnmGnpLQbN_uP3TO3QaEaomjmphoEF_UKkA/s1440/Tyme+Warp+Cars+n+Coffee.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1440" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ_aY5qs8rAhiwPXHLhs4wsyO_zwz1V-VShNQr8UwF_8cNHno4n9DVW4WxYYLWsfcPugpnYTv_xn-fnJLTDdbxf9gDcCGh2niMn44JESH6GnmGnpLQbN_uP3TO3QaEaomjmphoEF_UKkA/w640-h640/Tyme+Warp+Cars+n+Coffee.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Riverside Cars & Coffee<br /></td></tr></tbody></table> <p></p><p>I must admit that color sanding and buffing the paint really made a difference and made the patina pop that much more. <br /></p><p>I also completely redid the interior and more then a few people noticed the period correct bucket seats, steering wheel, vintage Stewart Warner gauges, and the custom painted glove box door by my good friend Jim at Riverside Pinstriping & Lettering.<br /></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy3FBoBBHgBEeTV-uuhoTuE7984WELraB2yqXbmGHGOQKl6t3wWmoobYndYJLFXW_KG0zYv52sL7kBVHclXV4Hhty3OJj0R_WahuEKlZgcpdjvbuXB2hEFbH4V_owj_2F2s3QuhszFl_8/s2048/DSCN4418.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy3FBoBBHgBEeTV-uuhoTuE7984WELraB2yqXbmGHGOQKl6t3wWmoobYndYJLFXW_KG0zYv52sL7kBVHclXV4Hhty3OJj0R_WahuEKlZgcpdjvbuXB2hEFbH4V_owj_2F2s3QuhszFl_8/w640-h480/DSCN4418.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Time Warp's Interior<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> Of course no sooner that I had gotten Time Warp on the road, the pandemic hit! Car shows were being cancelled left and right so the car just sat. You might say that it was all fixed up with nowhere to go. Work was sketchy and my savings was low, a bad combination. Keen readers will have noticed that the first paragraph in this story was written in past tense...<p></p><p>Fast forward to today. As I write this Time Warp is no longer in my garage, it is now with it's new owner in Denmark. What a journey, both literally and figuratively, but there is both good and bad news. The bad news is that I had to sell one of my bucket list cars that I had put major time and effort into. The good news is that now I can concentrate on my moth balled '72 Olds 442, project Yellowjacket.</p><p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj6K4SVerTo-3sqfOnIBP2CCRKWz1X8QwSNmWeWCGPPXx-EuiIIdfEaWF4aMPkQj8PvQLRUWWkCDjIkWNtuBMmh6R2qWWctxjMEgwuhJp_zr3zSSOXpjRI-F9qh_UbZ2squJTiAGQ_ljY/s1242/Tyme+Warp+Denmark.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="932" data-original-width="1242" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj6K4SVerTo-3sqfOnIBP2CCRKWz1X8QwSNmWeWCGPPXx-EuiIIdfEaWF4aMPkQj8PvQLRUWWkCDjIkWNtuBMmh6R2qWWctxjMEgwuhJp_zr3zSSOXpjRI-F9qh_UbZ2squJTiAGQ_ljY/w640-h480/Tyme+Warp+Denmark.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fresh off the boat in Denmark<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha5ByUOK2wdRE3Chyphenhyphen9bYq_JSdgtSKny129XnwHRUlKpXbTckcZJF7kiIi2zybkfd8Jbx3VjeaiuXQneojrEdzRhl12DoIPuIbjE3f3P3AnPKnx1QZied9MWF_xYzEV7gD26Pazg0CPEDI/s2048/P4240048.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha5ByUOK2wdRE3Chyphenhyphen9bYq_JSdgtSKny129XnwHRUlKpXbTckcZJF7kiIi2zybkfd8Jbx3VjeaiuXQneojrEdzRhl12DoIPuIbjE3f3P3AnPKnx1QZied9MWF_xYzEV7gD26Pazg0CPEDI/w640-h480/P4240048.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Project Yellowjacket<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p> <br /></p>Frank the Crankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08021995104993630048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1750224963253237984.post-81164248382072529572020-09-22T21:18:00.003-07:002021-07-20T21:42:47.535-07:00Road Trip to Mustang Island<p> I recently ran across this really excellent road trip story during my never ending quest for the written word of all that is classic automotive. The author's / adventurer's name is Heather Storm (cool name, right?) Now I must admit that I had no idea that Ms. Storm was a celebrity / super model prior to me reading this. I never would have guessed by reading her story, truly down to earth. Man, I must be getting old! Anyways, riding shotgun in Heather's classic '65 Mustang is her friend, Lucy. The names Heather and Lucy have sort of a Thelma and Louise vibe to them but this story ends much different. Take a look for yourself <a href="https://www.heatherstorm.com/blog/roadtriptomustangisland?fbclid=IwAR1ZF-mk4RDLmwstheUm4HIxiYJw-ihqpldTj6A0exwclwlVX4sVODdY-mQ" target="_blank">here.</a><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp7L8QjIPFir_GoNcvjz1qL3T1KWTRkfMi9ZtBXv-Le1jrReItBf55ixy8pZHmnZGb8j2AEhOENc6L4FZPVm8cwaUxIhTeB_TqY1r7Z5HisvMrjhNGUpuxlLEzR78Cgr02jLUhRBANUU4/s1000/Mustang+Heather.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="667" data-original-width="1000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp7L8QjIPFir_GoNcvjz1qL3T1KWTRkfMi9ZtBXv-Le1jrReItBf55ixy8pZHmnZGb8j2AEhOENc6L4FZPVm8cwaUxIhTeB_TqY1r7Z5HisvMrjhNGUpuxlLEzR78Cgr02jLUhRBANUU4/w640-h426/Mustang+Heather.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mustang Heather<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Link to story: <a href="https://www.heatherstorm.com/blog/roadtriptomustangisland?fbclid=IwAR1ZF-mk4RDLmwstheUm4HIxiYJw-ihqpldTj6A0exwclwlVX4sVODdY-mQ" target="_blank">https://www.heatherstorm.com/blog/roadtriptomustangisland?fbclid=IwAR1ZF-mk4RDLmwstheUm4HIxiYJw-ihqpldTj6A0exwclwlVX4sVODdY-mQ</a></p>Frank the Crankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08021995104993630048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1750224963253237984.post-2122584928202811362020-04-12T09:17:00.001-07:002022-09-23T20:05:30.006-07:00The Shiners<span style="background-color: white;">I ran across this cool film on the Street Racing Channel. According to the description, inspired by <i>Smokey and The Bandit</i>, <i>The Dukes of Hazzard</i>, <i>Return To Macon County</i>, and <i>American Graffiti.</i> This also features a performance by Motorsports Molly<span style="color: #030303; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">. </span></span> I thought it was very cool, check it out...</span><br />
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Frank the Crankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08021995104993630048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1750224963253237984.post-35280491569680717112020-03-18T23:14:00.000-07:002023-02-13T21:38:51.862-08:00FranktoidTM No. 21 - Cancellations are now a PandemicAs I write this from my isolated room, on my freshly disinfected keyboard, sipping herbal tea laced with honey and self quarantined in my house, I can't help but wonder what is next? I just received an email that a car show I was registered for in early April has been cancelled. Another notification said this upcoming weekend's Cars and Coffee was also cancelled. The more I looked, the more was cancelled. Nascar, cancelled. Long Beach Grand Prix, cancelled. Monaco Grand Prix, cancelled. NHRA, cancelled. Supercross, cancelled. I could go on and on but I think anyone reading this knows the impact that COVID-19 is having globally. Is it fear or precaution that is driving us? Whatever it is, it's having a heck of an affect and is starting to concern me to the point of worry.<br />
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We all have a front row seat in this and are witnessing unprecedented events that are unfolding all around us. From collapsing financial markets to the closing of restaurants and everything in-between, it's the stuff of nightmares. Some folks blame the media, some blame the man in the White House, and others simply blame mankind. With all the finger pointing it is easy to forget what is most important - you.<br />
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We are all in this together. I was really hoping that people could put aside their political differences as this pandemic wanes on but there are more then a few individuals that are showing their true colors. Even worse, there are subhumans taking advantage of people during this time. Currently things are very fluid and there are a lot of uncertainties and unknowns, like the future of my job. What I do know is that we will get through this, I don't know exactly when, but we will, although there is likely to be more cancellations before we do.<br />
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I wish all of my readers the best of health. Please stay healthy and lets fight this together, and if it turns out to be a big nothing burger, then at least we didn't throw caution to the wind. With a little luck and a lot of faith maybe we can cancel this virus!<br />
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<br />Frank the Crankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08021995104993630048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1750224963253237984.post-84131889224830992272020-02-15T19:57:00.002-08:002020-09-26T20:32:38.950-07:00North Main - Chapter TwoShortly after my shenanigans with my sister's Mustang I was told that I was not allowed to drive it anymore. This was probably for the best as I had also recently performed my own testing with the car to see if it would actually do 160 MPH, because that was what the speedometer maxed out at. I mean, why would they put it on there if the car wouldn't do it, right? At least that was my thinking at the time as best as I can recall. I decided to conduct my test on a long stretch of a two lane road that was buried back in the orange groves near my house. It only had one stop sign and that was towards the end of the road where it made a sharp right. Staging the car at the opposite end of this road, I did absolutely nothing to prepare for my top end speed test. Tire pressure checked? Nope. Lug nut torque? Nope. Engine oil level? Why? I did check the fuel gauge prior to departing and managed to put $3.75 worth of gas in the tank. I was also very safety conscience and actually used my lap belt. What could go wrong with bias ply tires and manual drum brakes? I think I was reading too much <i>Mad Magazine</i> because Alfred E. Neuman was definitely having a negative influence on me. What, me worry?<br />
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In the end my top speed test was successful, sort of. I did manage to bury the speedometer needle at the 160 MPH mark, or at least that was where it was bouncing to. I know I was well over 100 MPH and was fixated on the speedometer, and not the road ahead, when I suddenly realized that I was very quickly running out of road. That stop sign was coming up faster than a Japanese bullet train and I needed to get that Mustang stopped now! Luckily I did not panic and mash down on the brakes, but rather I slowing starting braking at first and gradually increased my pedal pressure. The only problem was that I wasn't really slowing down, at least not as quickly as I had envisioned. I could now clearly see the stop sign ahead of me, glowing red in color, almost as if by anger. Why wasn't I stopping? More pedal pressure, then more pressure, then with both feet pressing for dear life on the pedal. I witnessed a car drive across the road at the stop sign ahead, the very same stop sign that I was barreling towards! The interior of the Mustang reeked of hot brakes and I was pulling on the steering wheel with my hands so I could exert even more leg pressure on the brakes. Suddenly both rear tires locked simultaneously and the car started to skid like it's on ice, right through the stop sign! I swear it happened in slow motion because I could totally see the stop sign to my right as the Mustang seemed to slowly skid past it. Stopped at the intersection was a nondescript Plymouth of some sort. I could clearly see the driver's angry scowl on his face as I skidded through it. Ours eyes locked for a second and I saw his squint a little, and then I noticed the white collar and black shirt. He was a priest! Not only was I going to die but I was going to hell as well!<br />
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The Priest in the Plymouth continued on his journey, probably upset that I had caused him to take the Lord's name in vain, but unfazed. I wish I could have said the same for me. Remember what I said earlier about the road making a sharp right? Well, the Mustang ended up skidding through that turn and straight into a dirt berm. As luck would have it the stang ended up mostly climbing up the berm. I say mostly because that bit of off-roading did not come without some consequences. After rolling off of the dirt hill backwards I finally brought the car to a complete stop and quickly got out to assess the damage. To my enormous relief all that I noticed, besides the stench of hot brakes, was a bent front bumper. The bumper was actually still fairly straight horizontally but was bent vertically at an upward angle. With smoke still coming off of the brakes I fired the engine back up and headed for home, too full of adrenaline to be scared over what had just transpired. As I was driving home the adrenaline started to wear off and was quickly replaced by fear. How the heck was I going to explain the bent front bumper? My sister would be livid! My dad would be pissed! I would be in big trouble!<br />
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It has been reported that people in fear for their lives can suddenly sum up super human strength. That is what I needed to straighten out that front bumper, or did I? Maybe all that was needed was super human thinking because as I was taking the long way home, in hopes of coming up with a good excuse, an idea suddenly popped into my head. I quickly made a detour to a local parking garage and after a brief search found the exact parking spot that I was thinking about. The space in question had a large, low cement out cropping that created a pocket of sorts at the head of the parking spot. I would see cars nosed in there, the concrete hovering only a foot or so above their hood. This would be perfect for my idea! I figured that if a bumper jack worked from the ground up, it should also work from the ceiling down. Do you see where I'm going here? With the Mustang nosed into that spot I pulled the jack assembly out of the trunk and proceeded to use it on the front bumper, upside down! That low, concrete overhang worked perfectly. I had to move the jack around to a few different spots on the bumper to get it even, but before long that front bumper was just about as straight as it had been before my "accident". Thinking about it now, it's kind of funny how I was so worried about the front bumper when I probably also boiled the brake fluid and crystallized the brake shoes from heat. Ignorance is bliss...<br />
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Now that the Mustang was off-limits to me and my dad was driving the only other cool vehicle we owned, the Datsun mini truck, I was left with the family station wagon to drive to school. It was either that or take the bus! My jonesing for my own car continued and was made even worse after I had went for a ride in my best friends 1967 Pontiac GTO. It originally was his dad's car that had been carefully stored in his grandfather's garage for years and then was given to my friend Duane on his 16th birthday. The goat was equipped with a 400 cubic inch V-8 and a Muncie 4 speed transmission. Just what every 16 year old needs, right? Well on this particular ride along Duane had just finished installing a tri-power carburetor setup on the goat. This time it was me riding shotgun as we took off down the street, slowly at first, and then Duane mashes down on the gas pedal and starts rowing through the gears on the Muncie. As he revs the Pontiac big block dangerously toward the tach's red line, I was suddenly transported back in time to when I was riding in my cousin's Camaro, as the g forces pulled me once again mercilessly into the black vinyl bucket seat. Just like when I was 10 years old that feeling of raw horsepower overtook me and left me wanting more. The roar of the big block V-8, the shifting, and the multiple carbs! I could actually hear the carburetors sucking air or maybe that was me trying to catch my breath... It is hard to put into words all the emotions that are felt but if you have ever been in that situation you know the feelings I am trying to convey. After this thrill ride I vowed to somehow procure my own ride come hell or high water.<br />
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I begrudgingly drove the station wagon to school daily and parked it in the back parking lot as far away from everything as possible. Now I know some wagons can be cool but this one was the farthest thing from cool and big enough to hold a baseball team. My family just happened to own one of the largest vehicles General Motors ever made, a 1970 Chevrolet Kingswood Estate station wagon. Heck, even the name is long! This thing was a tank and built like one also. Optioned with a 400 cubic inch engine, a TH400 transmission, and a third row seat, it rode on a 1/2 ton truck suspension and also used the brakes and rims from the same. To make matters worse, it also had a luggage rack on the roof and stickers on the rear side windows from all the states we had traveled to in it. And, for a finishing touch, a "Have You Dug Wall Drug?" sticker was plastered on the rear bumper. If this were not enough incentive to get my own car, I don't know what was. As it turned out I would not have to drive this bulging behemoth for too long as I had recently spotted a very cool looking car in my neighborhood that I was hoping I could talk the owner into selling to me, but I was about to discover that I was not the only one looking at this particular vehicle...<br />
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<br />Frank the Crankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08021995104993630048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1750224963253237984.post-50442668315685596112020-01-22T19:25:00.001-08:002023-09-02T18:43:49.212-07:00North Main - Chapter OneMy first real performance car that I rode in was my Cousin Mike's 1972 Chevy Camaro Z/28. If I remember correctly I was about 10 years old and didn't know squat about cars. My cousin was in the Navy, stationed in Southern California, and had just bought a bright red Z/28. It was equipped with the optional LT1 350 small block V-8 and a Muncie M-22 "rock crusher" 4-speed manual transmission. While on leave he drove it to our house and offered to take my dad for spin. When Mike asked me if I wanted to go I couldn't say "heck yeah" fast enough! I thought this was so cool. A chance to hang out with the guys and listen as they talked car stuff. I could have smelled the testosterone in the air if I even knew what that was back then. As all three of us walked out of the house and towards the car it was suddenly happening in slow motion for me, like in the movie <i>Armageddon</i> when the astronauts are walking to the space capsule. My first ride in a muscle car and I couldn't wait!<br />
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Before the ride began my cousin went over the finer points of his new ride which included popping the hood and showing off the engine compartment. Typical Navy guy, all technical and knowledgeable. My dad and him talked mechanical Russian, as in I didn't understand a thing, so I just stood there and pretended to understand. After what seemed like a Catholic High Mass the mechanical tour was over and we were ready to take "the drive". Dad was riding shotgun so I was regulated to the back seat. Sitting back there on the recessed seat cushion behind a high back bucket seat, I really couldn't see anything, so I scooted over and sat on the hump in the middle of the back seats. To this day I can still see the shifter vividly in my mind - a brushed aluminum Hurst T-handle on a shiny chrome lever poking out of the center console. A mesmerizing site of pure mechanical brawn for a 10 year old. When my cousin fired up the engine my ears heard the sweet sound of mechanical lifters for the first time in my young life. Of course I had no clue what was making that watch-like ticking sound, all I knew was that I liked it. Notching the manual transmission into first gear, Mike slipped out the clutch and the Camaro lurched forward eagerly. As my cousin rowed through the gears on the 4 speed, my eyes were fixated on the tach, watching the red hand sweep the face back and forth. My ears were filled with a combination of the throaty exhaust and the legendary whine of the Muncie transmission. The shifting, the tach, and the revving of the engine all combined was almost hypnotic. The faster he went, the harder I was being pulled backwards into the seat as the G-forces took over completely and held me prisoner against the black vinyl. That feeling of raw horsepower was unreal and unlike anything I had ever felt before. The whole experience ruined me forever as I was now obsessed with muscle cars!<br />
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Soon I started noticing muscle cars all over. Super Sport Chevelles, Novas, GTOs, 442s, and a few that I did not recognize but they looked awesome. On one Saturday I was walking up the street to my friend Ken's house when I spotted one of the coolest cars I had ever seen. Sitting in Ken's driveway was an orange '56 Chevy 2 door sedan with mag wheels and a perfect, sinister looking stance. On the rear quarter panels the name "sandman" was painted in gold leaf. This was my beginning of a love affair for tri-fives that I still have to this day. I found out the wicked looking 56 belonged to their gardener and after that I use to see it around town with a mower sticking out of the trunk! <br />
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Although I was hopelessly hooked on horsepower it would be quite a few years before I owned anything even close to what I had experienced with my cousin's car. The first V-8 powered car that I actually drove was my sister's 1966 Ford Mustang. It was only a two barrel 289 with a C4 automatic transmission but it looked pretty good with it's U.S. Indy slot mags and blue paint. Equipped with Cherry Bomb glasspacks, the engine sounded faster then it actually was. It was a huge step up from an anemic 1300cc 4 cylinder Datsun pickup, which was what I happened to be driving after I got my drivers license. Remember what I said earlier about cruising being a precursor to racing? Well, one fateful Saturday night I was doing just that - cruising, in my sister's Mustang. I had just called it a night and had gotten on the freeway to head home when a couple of guys in a 71 or 72 Mustang Mach 1 pulled up in the lane next to me on the freeway and started goosing the throttle. I could hear the roar of the Mach 1's engine over my high winding 289, but it didn't intimidate me. Heck, I didn't know enough yet for it to intimidate me! Before too long the passenger was shouting out his window at me, "North Main!" Another words, if I wanted to race, meet them there. Not quite knowing what to expect, I quickly exited the freeway and headed towards North Main.<br />
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At this point in my young life I had cruised quite a bit and of course heard about all the street racing at North Main. I had even ventured down there to watch a few times in the aforementioned Datsun mini truck, but this was the very first time I was going there to actually race! I was excited beyond words and nervous as hell. As I exited the freeway and headed up the long stretch of North Main Street, I could see the parking lights of all the cars up in the distance, parked on both sides of the street. Approaching the end of the line of cars, I promptly pulled over and parked. I didn't even get to shut off the engine when the driver of the Mach 1 pulled up and signaled me to go over to the starting line which had just cleared. As I was heading towards the line I stopped before I got to it and attempted to do a huge burnout to heat up both my rear tires, or so I thought. Whereas my burnout consisted of a single skinny line of Firestone G-70-14 rubber, the Mach 1 laid down two healthy lines of rubber as only a Ford 9 inch Detroit Locker with pos-a-traction torque twister tires can do. Suddenly there I was at the starting line with a very healthy sounding Mach 1 next to me. What the hell was I thinking? My sister's small block equipped Mustang was no match for this big block brute! When down track was clear the starter turned and gave us the signal to stage. The Mach 1 was holding his brakes and loading his torque converter big time as I could hear his engine over mine. My engine was just idling as I was waiting for the signal to go. Quick as a flash the starters hands were down and I mashed the gas pedal to the floor. The 289 revs quick and I was manually shifting the C4 trans, so as soon as the tires started to loose traction I shifted up into 2nd gear. Lacking the engine torque to continue to spin the tires through 2nd gear, my Mustang just hooked up and took off like a rocket. My competitor in the Mach 1 was not so lucky. As soon as he released the brake his tires went up in smoke. Realizing his predicament he immediately up-shifted only to be foiled by the outrageous torque of his big block Ford. As he continued to smoked his tires down the track and loose traction, I was pulling farther away. I will never forget that feeling when I crossed the finish line and realized that I had won. To say I was on a mechanical high would have been an understatement! More then a few people that evening were surprised to see I had beat that particular big block Mustang, but none more then me! Frank the Crankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08021995104993630048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1750224963253237984.post-54288707275804779062019-12-31T23:32:00.000-08:002019-12-31T23:39:33.797-08:00North Main - Prologue<span style="background-color: yellow;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b>A note from Frank:</b> <b>Just over a year ago, in November 2018, I posted that I would be sharing with you the first chapters of a book I am writing called <i>North Main</i>. As 2019 comes to a close and without further ado, I present to you the first chapter of my book:</b></span></span><br />
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My generation was the very last of the Baby Boomers, and as such I grew up in the 60's and 70's. It was 1980 when I started driving and muscle cars were cheap and plentiful. I had a good job at one of Southern California's largest independent auto parts stores plus I still lived at home. Consequently, there was a constant revolving door of cars in my parent's driveway (much to my mother's dismay) and fixing them up just came natural to me. Much like someone that takes to a musical instrument at an early age, I was very adept at working on vehicles. As long as I can remember I was always curious about how things worked and was very mechanically inclined. Combine that with a appetite for V-8 engines, add in the lack of local drag racing facilities (yes, even back then), some friendly rivalry, and you have a recipe for trouble.<br />
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The trouble I'm referring to is cruising and street racing. As bad as some folks think it is, street racing was just another part of growing up for me. It's not that the "events" were any safer or any less crowded, but perhaps a bit more organized as they were held in a dedicated spot and not just anywhere or at anytime. In all the years that I followed street racing, I cannot recall any deaths from it, and only one solo wreck. Sure, there were a few close calls, but that was because of the drivers being idiots. There seemed to be more potential for trouble if you went cruising, and cruising was usually the precursor to that night's street racing, so it just happened that I was part of the cruise scene also. Cruising was absolutely huge during this period in So Cal. In my neck of the woods if you were not cruising Market Street in Riverside you were on the infamous E street in San Bernardino. Cruisers came from all over, some just to cruise, some to race, and others to make trouble.<br />
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The trouble makers were almost always from out of town, drunk or stoned, and there would usually be two of them. If they didn't try and use their fists, they would brandish tire irons, baseball bats, and once I even saw a handgun. I can still see a fight that took place right in front of me in a fast food drive thru line! Like I said, there was more potential for trouble if you were cruising. <br />
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Back when we street raced, there were no look outs, police scanners, two-way radios, or any other stuff like what is portrayed by Hollywood. When I first started attending the races, Police presence was sporadic. We figured most of their resources were consumed with all the cruisers, giving them tickets for being to low, having tinted glass, too loud of exhaust, and my personal favorite - exhibition of speed. (for chirping your tires!) We gathered far away from homes and people on a stretch of road known as North Main. By the time it was all over, anybody who was anyone in street racing knew about North Main. The bulk of my "experience" happened there and it became a very popular place to race, but it was this popularity that eventually got the undivided attention of the local Police. I witnessed Police raids, blockades, and even car chases as the authorities cracked down on us "juvenile delinquents". <br />
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You could find me almost every Saturday night cruising Market Street and then eventually ending up at North Main. I was not a huge player on the street racing scene, but I knew a few who were. My primary role was as an observer or occasionally as a wrench, as I worked on a few of the faster cars back in the day. I also had a keen eye and would often scope out the competition prior to a race. Now-a-days nitrous is bragged about and shown off almost to excess, but back then if you were on "laughing gas" you generally hid it from prying eyes. Some guys went to extreme measures to hide their N2O systems, but I would generally be able to spot them. Here is a brief list of some of the other items I would check for: the unique smell of av-gas in the fuel tank, plexi glass windows instead of factory safety glass, gutted interiors replaced with sheet metal, racing slicks, ladder bars and other full race stuff. Most of the cars were true street cars, but towards the end things were getting so crazy that full blown race cars on trailers started showing up. For me, that was the beginning of the end.<br />
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How long street racing has been around and how dangerous it is has been debated quite a bit, with pros and cons on both sides of the fence. Street racing has been portrayed many different ways in the movies, media, and on the internet, with the vast majority of those portrayals being completely fictional. We all know street racing is unlawful, but this is not a debate about weather you think it's a good or bad idea. The story that is about to unfold here probably won't change anyone's opinion on the subject either. Rather, it is a first hand account of street racing and the cruise scene in the early 80's, as I witnessed it. So regardless of what you might have read in the past or what movies you may have seen, this is the real deal. So sit back, buckle up, and lets go for a ride...<br />
<br />Frank the Crankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08021995104993630048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1750224963253237984.post-73522480929819788922019-12-30T20:41:00.000-08:002020-01-09T20:49:16.707-08:00It's a GivenThe other day I was working on my '56 Chevy "Time Warp" and was preparing to mount my old school Carver stereo amplifier in the trunk area. I decided it would be best to mount it on a piece of wood instead of directly to the metal, so I sauntered over to my work shed where I keep all my wood working stuff. After rifling through a few stacks of good used wood, I procured a piece that would work nicely. After some minor trimming and smoothing of the edges I perused my collection of hardware to find just the right length screws to attach everything. It was at that moment that I realized how convenient it was to have these extra items at my fingertips, as most people would have to stop, make a trip to their local hardware store, purchase wood, spray paint and fasteners, then get back home to start again and hope they didn't forget anything.<br />
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I guess I really never thought about it before because for me it was always this way. Growing up, my father's garage and basement was a literal hardware store. Lumber, nails, screws, paint, iron pipe fittings, tools, electrical switches, and even a kitchen sink! If I needed something chances were good that I would find it out in his garage. To the casual observer my dad's garage probably looked like a collection of junk. There was a labyrinth of skinny pathways that weaved their way throughout the garage. It was here that I discovered and developed my ability to visually recall items that I had seen previously, albeit only briefly, due to the fact that none of it was organized. One might say it was developed out of shear necessity but whatever the reason it has served me well throughout my work careers.<br />
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Nowadays folks like my father are called "hoarders", which is just a newer term for the old "pack rat" label or the more mellow "junk collector". My dad grew up during The Great Depression so that might have had something to do with his "saving" tendencies and the fact that he did not want to throw away anything that was still usable or good. He was a true jack-of-all-trades. One might say that he was repurposing stuff before the term was even used. Although I am a lot more organized then my dad was I do have a problem throwing away good used parts. I sell a few here and there but some of the stuff you can't even give away. People would rather just buy brand new, a few swipes on their phone or a few clicks of the mouse and before you know it, there it is on your doorstep. So much for environmental sustainability.<br />
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Maybe it was the way I grew up but I don't feel complete unless I have these "extras" around that I can utilize when needed. I think the challenge is maintaining an even balance of this stuff so you do not get overwhelmed, or worse, get labeled a hoarder. Of course it helps that I can repair almost anything, or at least try. This concept seems to be totally lost on the newer generations. For me, it's a given.<br />
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<br />Frank the Crankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08021995104993630048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1750224963253237984.post-38175733745840308542019-09-14T22:03:00.002-07:002023-08-20T20:03:04.488-07:00Getting GrilledI received an captivating email last month from an author asking if I was interested in reviewing his latest book. As I perused the email I soon discovered that it was an automotive related book, and one about classic cars to boot! Right up my alley to say the least so I was really anticipating checking it out.<br />
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The book in question is titled <i>Great Grilles of the '50s</i> written by Mark Misercola and Hank Kaczmarek. In brief, I was told that it is "a coffee table retrospective that provides the stories
behind the designs of some of the most iconic front grilles from
Detroit’s golden era of design, including the 1953 Olds Fiesta, 1952
Packard Caribbean, 1957 Dodge Custom Royal Lancer and the ‘57 DeSoto
Fireflite. It also has a chapter on Dagmar bumpers." What I actually discovered was a whole lot more...<br />
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First off, this is not one of those outlandishly sized coffee table books that is almost the size of the table! In my humble opinion, it is perfectly sized and also fits well in my book shelf, not that it is going to be there anytime soon. The vast majority of the photographs are color with the few exceptions being the period black and whites. Don't let the title fool you either, this is not just a compilation of classic automobile grilles. In between the hardback covers, the pages are chocked full of information pertaining to each model, from "Fast Facts" and a "Grille Tech Sheet", to options and current values. There is even a paint code/color chart for each car! How cool is that? I have a feeling that this book is going to take up permanent residence on my coffee table.<br />
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I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book! Plus, it also doubles as a great reference for facts and figures on the particular cars. This is a must have for every collector car enthusiast old and young alike and you can order your very own copy by clicking right <a href="https://mtpublishing.com/product/great-grilles-of-the-50s/" target="_blank">HERE.</a><br />
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After you get your copy and before you get too absorbed in it, turn to page 49. Gracing that page is my favorite photo in the book and a car that is on my personal bucket list, a 1959 Dodge Custom Royal Lancer. This car is a rolling piece of virtual art that would have <a href="https://www.charlesphoenix.com/" target="_blank">Charles Phoenix</a>, the Ambassador of Americana, saying: "Yes ladies and gentlemen, this is the all new for 1959 Custom Royal Lancer by Dodge, behold the glory!" Special thanks to Mark Misercola for contacting me about his book and <a href="https://mtpublishing.com/index.php/default/" target="_blank">M.T. Publishing Company</a> for providing the copy.<br />
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Frank the Crankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08021995104993630048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1750224963253237984.post-26518818518450006012019-08-25T22:03:00.000-07:002019-08-25T22:03:28.072-07:00Russia Collusion is Alive and Well<b>BREAKING NEWS: Frank's Classic Car Blog indicted on multiple counts of Russian collusion, Amberlight Garage seized for evidence!</b><br />
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Yes folks it's true, I was caught "red" handed, no Soviet pun intended. The counts in question are the top 15 and number 2 to be specific. There is also email evidence, so I suppose the warehouse housing my massive, liquid cooled servers will also be seized! But before you go believing this fake news, let me explain first.<br />
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I received an interesting email earlier this month from a Russian bot... er, I mean from a web site Project Manager. The agent, oops, I mean <i>the Manager</i> informed me that Frank's Classic Car Blog has been included for Russia's <a href="https://mrpromokod.ru/toplists/top-15-most-popular-car-blogs/"><b>Top 15 Most Popular Car Blogs.</b></a> See, there is the 15 reference. But what about the number 2 you ask? Well good readers, that is where this very blog placed on their hit list. Did I say hit list? I meant list, just plain list...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0bjaUtRhRNFsSnYvcEbDask9ge8xW4orcWLM_5ex0pjUYbK4SK6TK6JreqcWDNoIN_YPqqw-ErCu0pO0me_nX8RaQotOL4qxQ7DgjoKxaxR9atn8a4nGf0tH8sT-qaDfOBrV57nDHDq4/s1600/red+square+winter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0bjaUtRhRNFsSnYvcEbDask9ge8xW4orcWLM_5ex0pjUYbK4SK6TK6JreqcWDNoIN_YPqqw-ErCu0pO0me_nX8RaQotOL4qxQ7DgjoKxaxR9atn8a4nGf0tH8sT-qaDfOBrV57nDHDq4/s640/red+square+winter.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Apparently the new home of the Amberlight Garage</span></td></tr>
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Frank the Crankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08021995104993630048noreply@blogger.com0