It seemed so simple in the beginning.  And it was only going to take a few months.  Thus speaketh the idiot.  It was Benjamin Disraeli (if you don’t know who he was, don’t worry about it – he also lost his head) who said, “Change is inevitable. In a progressive country change is constant.”  There may be some doubt as to whether we are in a progressive country, but change does happen. 

So here we are at Lanny’s Joint and all we have to do is run a few wires, bolt on the fenders, running boards, etc., fire up the puppy and drive it away.  Sure!!!!

When you’re thumbing your way through the hot rod fantasy magazines and you see an ad for a wiring kit, ever notice how they stress the simplicity of their product?  Let me tell you – they lie – they lie big time.  There ain’t nothing simple about wiring a car.  You may know all about electricity and related stuff - you may even know how to work the remote for your TV - but you don’t stand a chance when it comes to wiring your car.  I once replaced the wiring loom for my Porsche - not too hard.  But if Lanny hadn’t been there, I would still be trying to figure out what the hell a signal generator was, as well as where it was. (By the way, a signal generator is the gizmo on the transmission that uses magnets to create a pulsed electrical signal that is sent to your electronic speedometer and your cruise control – if you have one.  Did I get that mostly right Lanny?)

Understanding what wire goes where is hard enough, but you really come up against it when you make changes.  Most of these kit makers think they had the last original thought.  They don’t seem to understand that part of rodding is doing it “My Way”.  So when you decide to have fog lights, where do you wire that?  Or you’re going to have a motor driven cowl vent, what wire goes where?  Or maybe set-up a Sirius radio?  And God help you if you want electric powered doors and windows.  And how do you hook up your powered seats? 

When Lanny asked if I had a Hiway 15 or a 22, I though he was talking about getting to Yuba City.  To my dismay, I discovered that he was talking about my wiring kit and wanted to know how many fuses it had, which correlated to how many electrical “things” I was going to stick onto the Hussy.  When he said, “I think we can make it work,” I had the uneasy feeling that this wasn’t going to be so easy.  Now that we are into it all I can sat is, “Lanny, don’t die on me, because if you do I’ll never finish this truck.”

I don’t want to make it seem that I’m a complete electrical dunce.  I can follow a schematic as well as anyone.  And I’m pretty handy with a soldering iron.  (Lanny thinks it is one of my anal traits – he’s right!)  But this is not a matter of hooking up a few wires.  It’s where do you best run the wires;  what makes for a good ground (no – not pavement, you idiot);  what is best left hot and what best is keyed to the ignition;  what size of wire is best for this piece of junk that you insist must be a part of your toy; and many more world shaking issues.

It may not seem strange to most of you that a good looking rod is a matter of much thought and planning, but when it comes to electrical matters, experience matters a whole lot more.  When Lanny told me to leave a little extra wire and not worry too much about bundling wires because when we were done, Pat Carr would clean it up and make it look pretty.  “Pat’s a magician when it comes to making electrical wiring disappear or look nice.”  Pat has had years of experience working with the world’s worst electrical contractor – the U. S. Military.  He was an aviation mechanic in the Marine Corps.  You probably know about the Navy adage, “If you can’t clean it, paint it; and if paint won’t work, throw it overboard.”  The Marines are worse, plus they swear better.  So Pat’s got credentials.  And all I can say is that I’m learning a lot.  It’s too bad that I’m never going to build another rod.  And Pat, if you can make it pretty, God bless you and your children.

Some changes happen because of whim, or serendipity.  One of Lanny’s great pleasures is creating something that allows him to learn new things about his toys.   I mean his machinery – his CAD mill and lath.  (He does have other toys – cars, tractors, fire engines, etc.)  If you work in Lanny’s shop, sooner or later he will ask you if you had thought about some dohicky or thing-a-ma-jig.  If you show some interest, he’ll invite you over to his “planning table”.  There he’ll sketch an idea for you, and the next thing you know you’re into a change.  I have to be very clear at this point about these changes -   I don’t know anyone who has had this experience with Lanny who hasn’t come away from it very pleased – maybe even rapturous.  Ask Dave Radcliff about the center taillight on his Packard, or his hubcaps.  Lanny has created for me an instrument panel, a center piece for the dash, complete with engraving, and a glove box that are works of art.  I truly don’t know who gets more pleasure from these changes, Lanny or us recipients.

O.K.  I have to admit that I’m a sucker for changes.  Bill Klingler, who did the fabulous paint on the Hussy, only had to ask if I’d thought about doing something and then we’d be off into a long discussion into what the possibilities were, or what else could be done.  Drake Palmer, who did much of the fabrication on the Hussy, would do the same thing.  But the one person whom I thought who knew best, my ever-loving, beautiful, very patient and extremely money-conscious wife, brought about the biggest change.

We were at Bill’s place looking at the recently painted cab, when she announced very firmly, “I can’t drive that thing.” 

Hey, we were looking at the cab.  It wasn’t even a truck yet.   What do you mean, “I can’t drive that thing”?   I didn’t fall over backward in shock – I became very scared.  What did that statement mean?  Was this the end of the Brazen Hussy?  Was the checkbook now going to be a double signature item?  Would I have to turn in all of my credit cards?  Was I going to have to sell the Hussy?  God, I’d lose a fortune – I’d never get anything like what I’d already spent on it.  What did she want?  What did she mean she couldn’t drive it?  We were only looking at a fabulous paint job and suddenly she can’t drive it?  I know women are mysterious, but this was way beyond mysterious.   I’ve been married to this wonderful lady for 46 plus years, and suddenly, out of the blue comes this declaration – “I can’t drive that thing!!!”

Then comes the completed thought – “If I drive it and scratch it, you’ll kill me.  If I have my horse trailer hooked up to it and Mr. Pojo kicks it, I’ll die.”  (Mr. Pojo is her small brained horse.)  So now the story is out.  But where do we go with this statement?  Finally she comes to the punch line.  I should know better, but I guess I’m a slow learner.

“I want my own truck!”

BIG CHANGE!!!!!

So now Claudette has her 2001 Ford F250 Super Duty, extended cab, V10, with an automatic transmission, truck, complete with 3 inches of lift and 33 inch tires.  Hey, it’s only got 70K miles on it.  And I get to ride shotgun while she is trying to figure out how wide it is.  This change is scary.  World - don’t tangle with this lady – she’s gonna win!  And then we are actively looking for horse trailers.  Ever ride shot-gun with a lady driving her “Hugher” and horse trailer through Folsom at 5 PM?  Talk about changes – this ones a BIG CHANGE!  But she ain’t gonna scratch the Brazen Hussy!  Oh Lordy!!!

Ya mun, change id de name o de game, ya bedda learn to swim wid it!   Hey boy, look ad de bright side  – you done gots your own truck.  See mun, de change ain’t so bad!!

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