Just one of those days. The inspection machine is still down and the morning was filled with Harry's dulcet tones screaming at the company over the phone.
I, on the other hand, began the teardown of this fucking 3.8L V-6 Taurus. Not only did the customer overheat it, the automatic transmission is shot. Now, I tried talking him out of doing the job, the car's 10 years old and was rapped in the front as it is. I know, because aside from the busted bumper cover, the fan is pushed back to the spark plugs on the front head. This car should be tossed, or stripped for parts, but it ain't worth the money he's putting into it. He's adamant about getting it back on the road. I warned him that he'll probably need new cylinder heads. The 3.8 has aluminum heads and when they overheat badly they crack between the valves. If he needs new ones, he's mortaging the house. The car ain't worth a set of heads, let alone a transmission. But hey, it's his money and it's my paycheck. I've known this guy for a long time and he always buys these crap cars and sinks millions into them. With all the money he's sunk into old cars, he could be driving around in something nice.
Speaking of nice, Indian brought his hotrod in today, a '23 T-roadster with a 302 Ford motor 'tween the rails. (Got a set of Fixerman-ported, polished, and matched to the intake, cylinder heads on it.) Stopped traffic per usual on the Avenue.
My car ordeal. A visit to the Benzmeister proved fruitful. I'm going to get the '91 S-Class that I looked at first. Fixer man's gonna be riding in style.
A note on this D-Day weekend. Grab yourself a book about WW II, sit down and read it, and try to get the mindset of the people at the time. How they knew what they were doing was right, how they knew they were fighting a just war against a group of tyrants bent on domination of the known world. Then ask yourself if this mess in Iraq feels right, if there is a clear cut enemy, a reason for us to go to war there to waste the lives of our children and our treasure. Was Saddam Hussein the type of threat as Hitler, Mussolini, or Tojo were? And what about the real threat? What about that group who attacked this country, who nearly killed my wife? Something to think about this weekend as we honor the men and women who saved the world from the Nazis.
With that, I have to take a shower and make myself pretty before Mrs. F gets home.