I blame it all on Ray.

He kept on telling me about this 40 Ford pickup that needed a little work, but could be acquired at a very reasonable price. Eventually my bride of 45 years overheard the esteemed Mr. Yedding blathering and she said, “Why don’t you check it out?” You need something else to add to your unfinished projects list.”

With that as encouragement I called Don and set up a time to examine this jewel of the past. Let me state from the get-go that this vehicle wasn’t what Ray said it was. Ray has a tendency to bring up the best of things while passing lightly, very lightly, over the worst of things. This isn’t to say that this 40 Ford pickup was a disaster. It did have a very nice 283 in it. It also had a recent brake job, not, as I found out later, that that meant that it could actually stop the truck. It also had some rust on the fenders, cab, doors, pickup bed, and other miscellaneous places (are there any other places left?). But what the hey, I’m a bit rusty too, and I’m only four years older than the Ford.

Don was extremely helpful and truthful. He did mention that the steering was a bit vague, and that second gear had a tendency to disengage when you backed off the accelerator. He also pointed out the positives, which I have to admit I don’t remember too well, as I was very involved with the memories of the 40 Ford coupe that I used to drive a beautiful girl, named Claudette, home from the roller skating rink in Redwood City. My father sold that coupe from under me (I wasn’t old enough to register it myself), but I later married that beautiful girl. And so when Claudette said, “Go ahead, buy it.” It’ll be fun for you.” I was ready to negotiate. OK, if you want to know what negotiate means, it means I paid Don what he said he wanted.

(I understand that in these articles, mentioning actual dollars is verboten, as “certain people” may read these articles and start asking difficult questions about financial matters pertaining to certain vehicles, if you know what I mean. Ask me about the “Equality Principle”.)

So I drove it home. I was scared s_ _ _ _less!! Yes, Don, it did wander a bit – like I aimed for Grass Valley and it went to Nevada City. I believed Don when he said that he bled the brakes, and that Duke had actually rebuilt them, but when I slid through the stop sign at the Cedar Ridge “Y” I began to remember that old 40 coupe of yesteryear a bit more realistically. “Double the amount of room you think you’ll need to stop, and pray.” Don had said double clutching might be a good thing. Hey, Don, it wasn’t a good thing, it was a necessity. And, yes, it did pop out of second gear. I now knew that I was either going to have to do some work quickly, or get a very large insurance policy.

The investigation began. I read. I talked to people. I asked questions and listened. I went on the Internet and explored. I downloaded “How To” articles, catalogs, advertisements, tips and hints. Several guys at breakfast were helpful. The most helpful person was Lanny. He answered my stupid questions without laughing and with great patience. I soon understood why so many people in the club said nice things about him. Little-by-little a couple of plans began to form. One was what I dubbed “The quick, temporary and later, much more expensive plan”. The other plan is now called “The Domino Plan”.

Now that I had figured out what to do came the hardest part. I had to sit down and tell Claudette what I had learned. And as all of you men out there know, this a horrible, doomed experience. First, she won’t understand anything of what I say – it’s all technical and mechanical and motors and disc brakes and rear ends (this, by it’s self, is a very dangerous item) and rust removal and repair. And secondly, and fatally, is the mention of what it is going to cost. Money - the kiss of death in any conversation between a man and a woman.

I explained that I could put in a Saginaw steering box (“What is that?”), if it would fit between the frame and the exhaust pipe and maybe that would fix the steering problem. But, it also might be the king pins, the tie rod, or the pitman arm (“The what?”) and I wouldn’t be sure until I actually got into it. (“How much would that cost?”) And then there was the matter of the brakes. A disk brake set-up on the front end would solve the problem, but I would also need a new dual master cylinder with a power booster, because … (“A disk, power, double what?” How much would that cost?”) As for the transmission; repairing the three speed is out because of the power of the engine, so it looks like a 350 automatic would be necessary, and that means I would have to put in a new transmission mount and that would be hard to do unless I took off the cab, which I really should do, because of all of the rust that needs to be removed and the new pieces that would have to be welded in. And removing the cab means that the fenders, hood, and pickup bed have to be taken off too. But that’s OK because of all of the rust. And that means I’m down to the bare frame, and because I have to remove the engine to remove the transmission, I’ll also have to replace the rear end. So if I’m going to replace the rear end I might as well put in a parallel leaf-spring set-up. And since I’m going to have to put in a new steering box and disk brakes, I might as well put in a Mustang II front end, and …

“Honey, you know what this is like?” It’s like one of those domino things, where they stand the dominos on end and then you push one and it pushes the next one and then they all fall down. “How much is this going to cost?” I don’t know about you, but I hate it when the love of my life sees right through me.

“You know, I’ve been taking these horseback riding lessons.” Well, it’s about time that I got my own horse.” “And I’ll need some riding tack.” “And I’ll also need a horse trailer.” “Will that thing of yours pull my trailer?”

Ask me about the “Equality Principle”. Maybe you don’t have to ask – maybe you can figure it out for yourself.

Oh, the “Brazen Hussy” thing. I explained to Claudette that in the information gathering process I had learned that before Don owned the truck, Duke owned it. Before that Den, and before that, a guy named Kim had it. “Why that truck has been in so many men’s hands, she just a “Brazen Hussy”.” So, it’s no longer a 1940 Ford pickup. It is now the “Brazen Hussy”.

And Ray, plan on it! I’m gonna get you! [TOP]