Monday, June 30, 2008
Sunday, June 29, 2008
It's me! In the thing!
This blog was created to honor Rally, the 1978 Camaro and her epic amounts of awesome and unfortunate amounts of misfortune. We'll start with a story-
In 2004, Rally was purchased from a dirt lot in the downtown borros of San Angelo, TX. She was a beautiful rusty maroon with rims to match, sporting a funky little light blue spoiler lying the name Z28. She barely ran then, which was to be expected. She had spent the previous 11 years in a field. She had only one previous owner who had apparently been a policeman for the San Angelo force back in the eighties. After we got her home, we knew something just wasn't right about the car. It is to be expected that old cars have a little bit of personality... but there was just something... off about this shy little 78. We did a little bit of tuning, cleaned her up, and readied to take her up to Dallas, 300 miles she ended up making just fine.
A few weeks later my father came down from is vacation in Wisconsin to see what exactly I had bought with the two thousand dollars he said I could use to purchase another car to replace my wrecked Neon. It wasn't any secret that he hated old cars but when he walked up and saw Rally his face contorted in shame.
"What's wrong with its spoiler?" he scowled and pinched her character. He no more than uttered the insult when gas started pouring out onto his feet. This was the beginning of a beautiful and unique relationship he was to have with Rally.
As months went by my dad and Rally spent a lot of quality time together. At first her battery tray was rusting out so he had made plans to fix it before the battery fell out of the car, mid-go. It wasn't long before there was a nice string of cursing from the garage and a lot of slamming. He stormed into the kitchen where I sat at the counter.
"Your CAR just dropped a battery on my FOOT!"
"What did you say to piss her off?"
It was the start of many incidents between my father and Rally, one involving the slamming of her hood onto his head and then hands. She quickly earned the nickname Rally Christine.
In 2004, Rally was purchased from a dirt lot in the downtown borros of San Angelo, TX. She was a beautiful rusty maroon with rims to match, sporting a funky little light blue spoiler lying the name Z28. She barely ran then, which was to be expected. She had spent the previous 11 years in a field. She had only one previous owner who had apparently been a policeman for the San Angelo force back in the eighties. After we got her home, we knew something just wasn't right about the car. It is to be expected that old cars have a little bit of personality... but there was just something... off about this shy little 78. We did a little bit of tuning, cleaned her up, and readied to take her up to Dallas, 300 miles she ended up making just fine.
A few weeks later my father came down from is vacation in Wisconsin to see what exactly I had bought with the two thousand dollars he said I could use to purchase another car to replace my wrecked Neon. It wasn't any secret that he hated old cars but when he walked up and saw Rally his face contorted in shame.
"What's wrong with its spoiler?" he scowled and pinched her character. He no more than uttered the insult when gas started pouring out onto his feet. This was the beginning of a beautiful and unique relationship he was to have with Rally.
As months went by my dad and Rally spent a lot of quality time together. At first her battery tray was rusting out so he had made plans to fix it before the battery fell out of the car, mid-go. It wasn't long before there was a nice string of cursing from the garage and a lot of slamming. He stormed into the kitchen where I sat at the counter.
"Your CAR just dropped a battery on my FOOT!"
"What did you say to piss her off?"
It was the start of many incidents between my father and Rally, one involving the slamming of her hood onto his head and then hands. She quickly earned the nickname Rally Christine.
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