This Old 'Vette - A Brief History

I suppose it could be said my family has hoarding tendencies. We're certainly packrats, although we don't get upset when it's time to purge some of the clutter. Mostly it's stuff acquired with a project in mind, and the project never really gets off the ground.

My whole life we've collected cars. Dad is an old musclecar fanatic, and he brought us up right. In my teens I drove a bevvy of classic muscle, mostly Mopar, that would make many a teen today drool, from the '74 Duster, to the '68 Coronet 500 convertible, Dodge Chargers in years ranging from '68 through '72, a Super-Bee, and a '73 Challenger. We even tore apart a mid '70s Sattelite to turn into a dirt track race car.

Oh, they were mostly half-junk beaters, but they were all undeniably cool.

After completing my Navy schools and being assigned to my first ship, I decided to buy my very first car all on my own. Well, mom and dad cosigned, but they never once had to make a payment on it or field a past due phone call. Go go gadget automatic drafts.

She was a Corvette (Banana) Yellow 1978 Chevy Corvette, and I loved her. She taught me much, like the feeling of accomplishment that comes with making, and completely paying for, a major purchase on one's own. She taught me to obey the speed limits, because bright yellow Corvettes are easy to notice. She taught me innumerable tricks to driving (and stopping) in the snow.

And she taught me that a Corvette will slide downhill on a thin sheet of sleet, even if placed in park.

Sadly, she isn't the most practical of cars, and when I became a broke college student I parked her at my parents' in favor of a much, much more economical Neon. I wasn't driving her, so I let the insurance lapse. Then the registration. Before I knew it, most of a decade passed without me even starting her up once. She became another rotting relic in my father's stable of cool but broken vehicles.

This weekend I decided to get off my ass and rectify the situation, so here she is, being prepped for surgery. I've washed off and vacuumed up years of dust and grime. I replaced her battery. My dad and I drained the gas tank (it was virtually empty). We found most of her hoses are rotting, mouse-chewed, or both, but we managed to get the engine to run for a minute or so on gas drizzled into the carbueretor.
Her heart still beats!

The really cool thing is I'm going to enjoy bonding with dad as we get her back into shape.

Beaurocracy slays common sense, news at 11

Well, today another nail was placed in the coffin of common sense.

Our illustrious highway department and I just had an absurd argument that went something like this:

HD:  You can't use class F concrete on hand formed curb. Class F is for slip forming, and the book requires class A for non slip formed curb.

Me:  But class F meets all of the specs for class A. In fact it has more cement in it, so it's patently better. Plus it's more expensive. I just don't want to waste 2 cubic yards of concrete I've already bought.

HD:  But the book says you use class A.

Me:  The curb right next to it is made of class F. The only difference is it was shaped by a machine instead of by hand forms.

HD: But the book says class A.

Me: I need a drink and a vaccination in case your willful stupidity is contagious.

Made of Pure Awesome

I found these this weekend while prowling the local bulk store.

They're like a little childhood memory followed me into adulthood.

I'm expecting Major Major Major Major any minute now.

So I mentioned earlier that I work for a highway construction company.  It's a profession that caters nearly exclusively to government contracts.  Frequently we get caught in absurd Catch-22 moments when regulations fail and common sense is not allowed to prevail.

For example, the project I'm currently working on has landscaping and irrigation incorporated as part of a city beautification effort.  We are to design an irrigation system for the landscaping based upon provided specifications, and submit it to the highway department for approval.  The irrigation system is to be designed based upon elevation and pressures of five existing water meters on the project.  No part of the irrigation or landscaping work may be started prior to the approval of the design.

Just prior to the start of the project, the city had replaced the water mains beneath the streets we are rebuilding.  There are now no existing water meters to base a design upon.

So this begins a several month long circular argument between our landscaping subcontractor, ourselves, and the highway department that resembles to the following:

Landscaper:  Where are you going to put the water meters, so we can begin the design process?


Department: Where do you want the meters to be?


Landscaper: Do you want me to pick locations?  How can I do that and make sure it meets the irrigation system design requirements?


Department: The meter locations are in the landscaping plans. You can't design the irrigation system until you've taken the pressure and elevation of the meters.


Landscaper: But where are the meters?  They aren't shown in the plans.


Department: Where do you want the meters to be?


Landscaper: Do you want me to just pick locations?


Me: Third base!


Throw in numerous instances of the department asking when I would finally have an irrigation design to submit, and you can see why I've studiously avoided buying ammunition.  I don't need the temptation.

After literal months of this, I finally broke down and simply designated five locations.  The city installed the meters, our landscapers got the pressures and elevations, and submitted their design.

Now, the department had specified old-technology wired controllers for the irrigation system.  Our landscaper, knowing the hassles associated with maintaining the old style system, designed using a newer radio-controlled system that has fewer headaches for everyone that uses or maintains it.  It's a more expensive controller, but saves the installation of miles of low voltage wiring below ground.

The highway department was happy with the better control system, but wants a price reduction, since it's different from what was specified, and the landscaper doesn't have to run the wiring (but still has to trench all of the piping).  We offer a price discount, but the department isn't happy with the amount, hoping for something in the ballpark of 1/5 the cost of the original price.

So, basically we're at this point:

Department: This Ferrari isn't the used Pinto we specified.


Us:  No, it's a Ferrari.  It's better in every way.


Department: Ok, you can sell us the Ferrari, but we want a discount on the original price.


Us: Fine.  We'll knock off the cost of the tint and fuzzy dice.


Department:  We were thinking more like a 20% discount from the used Pinto price, since you won't have to buy anti-explosion insurance with the Ferrari.


Us: Wha?!

I'm telling you, this project has been surreal.  We should just sell them the used Pinto at full price.