First Dates and the cars that take us there
To say that I love cars is a complete understatement of a real, verifiable fact. I dream of finding that rare, vintage hot rod that only needs a little wrench time and some paint (because who wants to love someone else’s color) to be the last truly awesome ride I will ever need. The reality of the situation is simple though: I (more than likely) have many years of car buying and selling ahead of me. I have had a sick amount of vehicles in my day. My very first ride was a 1972 Chevelle Malibu. I remember her as a sleek sexy ride. She was obviously old when my Grand Father gave her to me in 1992 with the instruction that I had a few years before I was going to be driving and I should use that time to restore her. 2007 (that would be 15 years later) saw me finally selling her, unrestored, since I didn’t want to leave her in storage while I spent my time over seas. I actually let the Malibu go very cheap. I had offers over the years while the old girl was running that ranged from insulting