imported_a
01-18-2002, 11:09 AM
Red needs a 1976 manual for Henry's daughter, and he's scared out of his mind. Somebody please let him know the availibility of said manual before Henry's daughter gets overly aggressive with this project!
Sorry guys, HE is sweet, this Red that is now really mine...thanks to this forum. Might have been a she to Pop, even with me driving him when I still felt I was driving 'Dad's Jeep' up here, he's not to me. He be a he. I could write a book about him just in the short years I've had him. Red actually let me grow sunflowers for little school children in the left passenger side when a bird club got started at Shefield Elementary and I couldn't stop the leak. Dad would have freaked. Maybe not.
I've stood in the paddock staring at this Jeep for two or more years, different times of day and night, wondering what to do. Wondering if I could do it.
I told Dad one time long ago I was sick of being an accountant. I wanted to be a mechanic. "You see my hands?" he says. "I don't care." I'd been seeing and feeling those busted knuckles for years. "OK, come out to the shop tomorrow, and you can scoot underneath and I'll show you what to do and you can figure out if you really want this."
I showed up, I scooted underneath, and as I worked on what he showed me, guys started coming in. And the Parts Pup joking started. And I got redder and redder. And I stayed under there, quietly working with those tools.
They all finally left and I skidded out. He says, "You sure you want to be a mechanic?" "No Dad, don't think I can handle it."
Sorry guys, HE is sweet, this Red that is now really mine...thanks to this forum. Might have been a she to Pop, even with me driving him when I still felt I was driving 'Dad's Jeep' up here, he's not to me. He be a he. I could write a book about him just in the short years I've had him. Red actually let me grow sunflowers for little school children in the left passenger side when a bird club got started at Shefield Elementary and I couldn't stop the leak. Dad would have freaked. Maybe not.
I've stood in the paddock staring at this Jeep for two or more years, different times of day and night, wondering what to do. Wondering if I could do it.
I told Dad one time long ago I was sick of being an accountant. I wanted to be a mechanic. "You see my hands?" he says. "I don't care." I'd been seeing and feeling those busted knuckles for years. "OK, come out to the shop tomorrow, and you can scoot underneath and I'll show you what to do and you can figure out if you really want this."
I showed up, I scooted underneath, and as I worked on what he showed me, guys started coming in. And the Parts Pup joking started. And I got redder and redder. And I stayed under there, quietly working with those tools.
They all finally left and I skidded out. He says, "You sure you want to be a mechanic?" "No Dad, don't think I can handle it."