Warning!
If you are squeamish about reading stories that contain parts of the human anatomy, do NOT read this article! (We’re guessing you’ll read it just to find out what part is mentioned! But you have been warned. )

OK Ray, I’ll get to you a little later, but for now I have to explain something very complicated, and I’ll need all the brain power I can muster and you, of all people, know how little I’ve got left.

It all started out with this Mustang II “type” front end we ordered from Fat Man Fabrications. The advertisements said that if I ordered a “Series III”, I’d get coil-over shocks. The ad for the “Series III” had a photo with a caption that said, “Oh Yeah!”. At the time I didn’t understand the significance of “Oh Yeah!”. I wanted coil-over shocks, so I ordered a “Series III” Mustang II “type” front end, complete with eleven inch vented disk brakes, and rack and pinion steering. (Hey, I know that a lot of this is wasted-words, but hang in there, I’m trying to impress the wife – OK? And I know that there are a lot of “types” in here, but that’s what caused all of the problems.)

When we picked all of this “stuff” up at American Pastimes we were in for several surprises. First was that the front crossmember was different. Usually the member is notched on either end to fit over the frame rails. But not this baby. It was four inches of square tubing, kicked up on each end, to be welded to the frame rails. There wasn’t any notched part to hold the shocks, or the upper “A” arms – just six much steel plates and some “instructions” on how to mount a go-cart to a Moon Rover.

I could tell that “we” were in trouble by the way “we” were acting. Lanny kept on looking at the “Instructions”, then to the parts, and then back to the “Instructions” and then back again, and again. Pat was picking up part after part and saying over and over “It’s so pretty – It’s so pretty!” And I was looking at the invoice and the prices and wondering what had gone wrong. This “stuff” was much better than what I had paid for. Not only were there many more pieces than expected, but they were in polished stainless steel. Pat was right ; it was pretty. Lanny was also right; this wasn’t what we expected. And I was right; I had coil-over shocks and they were in polished stainless steel and they didn’t cost more. Wow! What a deal. Maybe!

Now, here comes the hard part Ray. I ain’t gonna get you. As a matter of fact, I’m gonna kiss your sweet face - - - because, now I get it. And you were right. I’ll come back to more of this sentimental stuff latter; instead, let us proceed on to the zippers.

Being able to work with Lanny was one of the smartest moves I’ve made in recent years. It’s right up there with selling our businesses in Massachusetts. When Lanny realized that we were not attaching parts to a Moon Rover, he went into his Experience Mode and hit the Practical Overdrive Button. Let me tell you folks that experience does count – a whole bunch, and now the Brazen Hussy and I were the recipients of all of that experience.

It was amazing – over there were the instructions with a whole series of how-to do-it photos taken of some hot dog in FLA-LA land that had nothing to do with the front end of a 40 Ford pickup – and over here was Lanny with his manuals and instruction sheets of past jobs, measurement charts for the frame, tape measures, protractors, calipers and various measuring devices, making black and silver marks here and there, cross referencing and rechecking. And then he’d say, “Let’s tack weld this!” Or, “Seems like this is about right!” Then, “Let’s check this measurement!” usually followed by, “Hmmm!”

I won’t make this any more tedious than necessary, but at one point we got the whole front-end “thing” assembled and it was about 3:30 PM (Lanny’s Magic Quitting Time) when Lanny decided to call Fat Man and discuss “things” with them. After about five mumbled minutes on the phone, Lanny returned and said something like, “They say if we’ve got the framus in line with the dohicky then it should be OK.” Only his face and body didn’t say “OK”. It was then that I came up with my bright idea - - - only I didn’t say it right then. Like a good, ignorant, parts-washer should, I closed my mouth. (I told you that I was going to learn to not talk so much!)

The next day we took that front end apart, and over the next several weeks, it got put back together in differing ways. Each time we tack welded it. It never seemed quite right. We installed the transmission and motor mounts. We reinstalled the front-end. We installed the rear parallel leaf springs. We installed the rear end. We installed the rear shocks. We reinstalled the front end. We installed the fuel tank. We spent a great deal of time installing the steering u-joints and braces and learning a lot in the process. We mounted the cab temporarily and then mounted the HVAC. And we were in the process of remounting the front end for the fifty-fifth time when the ignorant, parts-washer couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Lanny, maybe we should just use zippers on this front end instead of tack welding it.” And that’s when it all came together.

Now, Lanny will dispute all of this. He will tell you that this is a work of fiction. And not even good science-fiction. He will tell you that none of what has been written, or is about to be written, ever happened. And Pat will agree with him, (because Pat wants to keep his job and he likes “pretty” things). But I swear it is true. It was the zipper that triggered it.

If you look at the following photos carefully, you will notice that there are three plates on each side of the frame that make up the upper “A” arm support and the shock tower mount. The horizontal piece, to which the upper “A” arm is mounted and is held in place by the two vertical pieces that also hold the upper end of the shock. This mess is (tack) welded to the frame. Notice that the two vertical pieces look quite a bit like penises. (Stop blushing Lanny.) And if you look carefully, you will notice that these two penises were, well, a bit flaccid. (If you don’t understand what I’m saying you either spent too much time with the Bible, or flunked eighth grade Sex Ed.) Now, if you’ll examine the second photo carefully, you will notice that the zipper has been undone and some viagra applied – and now we have a 40 Ford front end raring to go. Or as the ad said, “Oh Yeah!”: (I hope that this part of the article doesn’t get me kicked out of the club. I’m not trying to be profane, or a bad boy. It’s just that’s what it looked like, and that’s what we all thought - - - so please, censorship committee, don’t kick me out.)

Well, this time it didn’t get tack welded. No zipper needed. It got real welded. And the measurements came out right too. And it even looked something like some of the Fat Man instruction photos. And best of all, we all knew that it was right. That’s what experience is all about - - - you know when it’s right.

I don’t know what happened at Fat Man. I can only guess. Some genius realized that six steel plates could to the job far more elegantly than that big eared, momma crossmember, and in the process could save big bucks. So they decided to use stainless steel, polish it up and make Pat happy. Their only problem was that they chose their ignorant, parts-washer to do the instructions. Bad mistake!

With the frame all powder-coated in black (60% gloss folks) and the engine in black, and with all that polished stainless, aluminum and chrome I’m beginning to realize that all of my Johnny Cash albums will be needed. I’ve always thought that I looked good in black. My surgery came out OK (it still hurts like hell), so that means we won’t need the black shroud. Just a long black coat and my black Boston Red Sox hat should do it. And Pat is still right, it is “pretty”.

And Ray, none of this would have happened if you weren’t your irrepressible self. I’m going to renege a little bit here – I’m not going to kiss your sweet face. I think I’ve already gone way over the line in this article and I’m not about to push my luck any more. But rest assured that everything you ever said about building a rod is true – and more. It is mysterious and magical. It is frustrating and yet very satisfying. And you were right, Claudette isn’t “real” pissed about the costs of this minor project – just “a bit” annoyed. And she’s invoking the Equality Principle - big time. And you were right – there is something about that goofy look I get as I’m trying, vainly, to explain something to her that makes her smile like she might still love me. Yeah Ray, may the gods of hot rodders everywhere bless you and raise you in exultant praise. May the - - - I think I’m getting carried away here.

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