What If...

Regular readers and followers have noticed that it's been about two weeks since my last post. While that sounds like no big deal, the Full Throttle faithful know that I publish a post almost religiously every weekend. The same type lapse in publishing occurred about a month ago, around Easter weekend. So, what's going on? I could trot out a banter of excuses like working overtime at my regular job, or taking in a number of weekend car shows, or perhaps taking a much needed vacation and getting off the grid. The truth of the matter is, I was taking care of my wife of 32 years after her major eye surgery. The need for the surgery came out of the blue just like the condition that affected her eye. There was no injury, no accident, that prompted this procedure. It's just a condition that sometimes comes with age.

That begs the question... for all of us; what if you suddenly didn't have use of one of your senses, like your eyesight? Would you still keep doing as many things as you used to do? Would you still enjoy hot rods, muscle cars, or driving motor-sports like drag racing? Or would you just come to terms like, "Things are the way they are. If I can't see, I certainly can't work on cars or enjoy them as much as I used to." This decision mindset hit me yesterday while taking a walk  with my wife. While on the way to the boardwalk that snakes it's way along the oceanfront harbor in the town where we live, we witnessed a nice 1932 Ford 3-window coupe that had a blown 427 FE big block thundering where the hood and fenders used to be. It was there and then I firmly decided that even if I lost my eyesight completely, I would not give up hot rodding. I could still hear that blower whine and the camshaft turn it's lopey idle. I could feel the rumbling exhaust. I could smell the fuel burning and exiting the short side exhaust. In short, I would be blind - not dead.

Ever hear of a gentleman named Brent Flagler? About 10 years ago, Hemmings Publishing who still churns out the bi-monthly periodical Muscle Machines, did an article on this man who restored classic Chevy muscle cars even though he was legally blind. (Ed note: unsure if he still does. We would imagine so.) Despite having the two most valuable senses needed for doing just about anything except eating, Flagler could remove doors, fenders, take out engines, and he has even recovered seats with beautiful results. At the time the article was written, he recently installed new seat covers on his 1972 big-block Monte Carlo and the fit was as good as if a professional had done it. His detailing skills back then, (and probably still are), second to none and he performed all his polishing by hand, but he also used a parts washer and grinding wheel. Unlike the high-priced restoration shops, Flagler's place is like most hobbyists shops in Anytown, USA. He has a small Craftsman tool box, a parts washer, a Craftsman 5.5hp 25-gallon air compressor and a workbench made of old kitchen cabinets. He also had a floor jack, some jack stands and a grinder, that's about it. Many of his hand tools were neatly organized and hung on the wall with hooks on pegboard. After reading this section of the magazine article, I had to ask myself - what is stopping me now in getting things accomplished or what would stop me if the inevitable happened?

The same with my love for nostalgia drag racing. While I wouldn't be able to pilot some serious Detroit iron down the 1320, I certainly would not pass up an opportunity to ride shotgun. I would still attend events at major tracks like Epping in New Hampshire and Englishtown in New Jersey. I could hear the announcements, feel all the horsepower as it lined up at the starting line, and smell the nitro. The same would hold true for attending smaller, but just as important events, like the annual Race Of Gentlemen in New Jersey.

Now I pose the question to you - would you remain just as active in your hobby and your life if you lost one of your major senses like your eyesight? Or would you just say the hell with it, turn bitter, add that life is unfair, and start the slow process of rolling over and dying?

I know what I would choose...
Until next time, peace out.
Dave