It’s his baby. His pride and joy. I’ve made jokes that if he had to choose between it and me, he’d choose the car. He denies it, but I’m not going to push my luck. I’m not stupid enough to ever say, “It’s me or the car.” If he has to have a mistress, than I can live with it as long as she looks like this.

He loves this 1971 Buick GS convertible. He bought this car only a day or two after we went to dinner for the first time. That night after we ate, he drove me to the used car lot to show it to me. Within a week, he had it. Our first months together as a couple were spent in this car or working on this car.

He’s made a career for himself writing about the work he’s been doing on it. About three or four years ago, he began stripping it to the skeleton and rebuilding it all over again. He must have put it in nearly a hundred magazine articles.

During that time, we have not ridden in it together. The engine was not in it for a long time and once he got it running it has experienced one issue or another as he works out the kinks.

Tonight, he put the interior back in it so that we could finally take a cruise together as a family. None of our kids can remember riding in it. I don’t think that Demo-Boy has ever even ridden in it.

I’m not sure who was more excited to take it for a spin, my husband or the kids.

After buckling them all in, The Girl announced, “And now, the moment we’ve all been waiting for!”

I’ll let him share how the cruise went:

I spent the evening after dinner putting the interior back in the GS. Put the car seat in it, put the top down, installed the turn signal switch, etc. Fired it up, pulled the headlight switch. Saw and heard a little “pop” under the dash.

No headlights.

Oh shit, I said, forgot that I had pulled the dimmer switch for the truck. Pulled it out of the truck, plugged it in, viola, headlights. Drove into town with the kids.

Started smelling burning rubber. I knew what it was. I didn’t want to admit it. I tried to ignore it. Fearing a blow out I pulled into Oakes [filling station]. Nothing on the sidewalls. Maybe it was another car.

Get to Oncue at Jardot and 6th. Pull in for a lottery ticket (gotta have that you know). Some lady pulls up saying “hey” so I turn, expecting a compliment. What a jackass I am for thinking that. She tells me I have no taillights, she goes on to say I have turn signals and brake lights, but no taillights.

I thank her and have a look. Yup, no tails. I start looking under the dash and check the wires in the back, I have all new wiring, brand new in the car. And they were working. I brought some tools just in case, so I got my DMM [Digital multi-meter] and tested the plug at the back for lights, no juice.

I am thinking that for some reason when I pulled the knob, the switch blew and only the headlights work. I have a new switch, I will put in tomorrow. Hopefully that will fix it.

My daughter said as we were laoding up “And now for the moment we have all been waiting for!” with the cheer and jubilation only a 5 year old can muster. And we only made it 2 miles.

When we got home, I checked the tires. There is a small section, about a 1/4″ wide that is making contact when the car is loaded down. It is on the outer edge of the tread. A sledgehammer should remedy that issue in short order. I think I will put my 17″s [rims] back on for now though.

Poor guy, he’s waited so long. Looks like he’ll have to wait a little while longer. Personally, I’d be satisfied to wait until the paint is done and all the chrome trim and bumpers are back on. But it’s not my baby. Mine is sitting in the driveway next to his, waiting for the title to get processed and the brakes to be bled.

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