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I believe the full text is actually Pride goeth before destruction, And a haughty spirit before a fall. Proverbs 16:18, but that won't fit in the subject line. Anyway...

As you guys know I put 7 months of work into my '65 convertible during "Project While I'm At It". This was A LOT more time (and money) then I intended. But, you know how it goes. One thing leads to another.

I finally set a firm goal of having the car "done" by July 20th. Why? Well, this is really sad, but I guess I wanted to be able to drive it to my 20th high school reunion that was being held that day. I don't know how many of you go to these things, but one of the topics of conversation is always, "My Gosh, did you see the _______ out in the parking lot? Who's driving that?"

I wanted to be the answer to the question. I mean, my '65 isn't a show winner, but it's a nice car. Last week when I was doing my test runs to get the carb straightened out, I was getting thumbs ups left and right. It's a nice enough car to draw attention in a parking lot full of SUV's and Minivans, in any case.

But alas...it was not to be. Saturday, the question was, "Hey man, did you see that Viper out in the parking lot? Who's driving that thing?"

Would the '65 have drawn appreciative looks parked next to a Viper. Probably a couple, but unfortunately we'll never know.

Friday, I went home for lunch and drove the '65 back to work. It was running fantastic and looking fine. When I got ready to leave, I noticed the power steering was making a funny noise. It does that. It leaks a little and every few months I have to add a little fluid. I got it home and started dumping in fluid. It took almost a quart. I started up the engine. Spun the wheel from side to side to get the slave cylinder full, shut her down to check it, and stepped out of the car into a puddle with at least that same quart of fluid in it, running out from under the car. I got it up on jacks and got under it figuring a fitting had come loose. No joy. The return line was leaking like a sieve right at that little brass crimp fitting. Friday afternoon. Nothings open, and none of the parts stores around me keep any parts for old mustangs anyway. I guess I could have got a piece of hose and a couple of band clamps and made it work (it was the RETURN line after all...not the pressure line). But then I'd have just had to fix it again later.

So, Saturday morning when I was planning on shining up the car to impress everyone with, I was under it in my coveralls getting that frickin 5/8" hydraulic fitting broken loose from the control valve. I finally had to cut the hard line off flush and get a six sided socket and a breaker bar on it. When I put that fitting on, I had the control valve/trailing link assembly in a bench vise. Believe me, it hadn't gotten any looser in the 4 years since then! Oh well, I had to replace it all anyway, so cutting it didn't matter.

While I'm at it...those frame nuts that 2 of the 3 bolts that hold the slave cylinder mounting bracket on have come loose. Looks like they need welded back in. Looks like I'm back to working instead of driving. Sheesh.

Phil
 

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I remember back in high school, cira 1981, we all voted for best car. A popular spoiled brat's RX7 beat out my buddies 66 GT350. Granted, not that many people knew what it was. (Remember, it was 81, so my buddy's dad picked up the Shelby for $2,500 a couple years earlier vs. $7-10k for the Mazda at that time)
 

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I saw an article in the paper today about the Tour de France and Lance Armstrong. It contained a profound quote from Lance, to wit, "A boo is a lot louder than a cheer. If you have 10 people cheering and one person booing, all you hear is the boo." Reunions are like that. We want to impress our old classmates; show them how far we've come, that we've amounted to something of substance. It doesn't matter how many accolades we get elsewhere, we still want that validation from those who knew us when.

Maybe the Viper was rented, maybe it was just someone who cashed out of the stock market at the right time and could pay cash for it. In a way, it's probably good that your Mustang didn't make it. The Mustang is something everyone likes, but it doesn't speak wealth or success and those are the totems that people look for at reunions. Better to keep enjoying the cheers than hearing the reverberations of the single boo from people whose eyes were focused on something entirely different than what the Mustang represents.
 

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I went to my 15th that was it. I don't need 1/2 them losers now just like I didn't then!
 

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I didn't go to my 5 or 10 and I probably won't go to my 15 or even 20. Maybe I'll shoot for 25. If I needed to talk to any of them, I would have by now.
 

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Discussion Starter #8
Evidently I missed the mark with my post. The Viper doesn't have anything to do with anything. There was one there. People were talking about it. I just wanted to point out that I was correct, that people do pay attention to the parking lot at these things.

The real point I wanted to make was that pride is a problem. We worry about silly pointless things instead of what really matters. Why is the conversation point at these things about possessions? Why aren't people more into shared values, families, tough times, missing classmates, etc? Well...sure we pointed all that out...then we went back to trying to figure out who owned the Viper.

You can call it bad Karma or whatever you want, but I really believe that I just wasn't "meant" to drive my Mustang to the reunion. And the reason probably had a lot do do with pride. Being proud of your car is a good thing. But the lesson I learned is that trying to impress people with your car is a bad thing.

I remember the first time I dated this girl several years ago I asked my brother to borrow his Jaguar to take her out in...so I could impress her. Well, the exchange didn't work out and I ended up taking her out in my '84 S15 instead (hey at least it wasn't a chevy Luv!). Would she have been more impressed with the Jag? I don't know. I could ask her though. She's home cooking dinner for me as I type this while she takes care of our three kids. I guess it worked out anyway.

God just figured I needed to learn that lesson again, I guess.

Phil
 

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Proverb 3:5-6

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways acknowledge him,
and he will make your paths straight.

Words to live by, especially when you've worked for two hours trying to install a stupid distributor in a 289 motor.
 

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I went to my 10th reunion, and it was really wierd. Of 525 in our class, only two weren't married yet, and I was one of them. Some of the women had 7 children already! All of the Jesus Freaks (sorry, TFOB!) turned into hippies, and all the hippies turned into Jesus Freaks. The ugly women were even uglier, and the pretty ones turned just plain ugly. I'll never go back again.

Memories are precious, and I prefer them the way I remember them. All in all, I'd just as soon forget high school.
 
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