Working with my hands -- 1962 Chevrolet Bel Air

Funny story:
Earlier this evening, I was looking in my closet for something a forum member had asked someone for in the marketplace earlier today... I had gotten the item in question expecting to need it, then changed my mind, so it was among the items chillin in my closet with the shoes and VHS porn and such...
Anyway, I had to move a box that I knew contained plastic model cars and airplanes and the like. I opened it, and of course had to ask myself "what in the hell?" then thought back to why I would have the item.
I remembered 2 Christmases ago, my pops was shopping for my niece and nephews for gifts and I (or my sister, I forget which) drove to Wal Mart. I saw a car and it was pretty inexpensive, I had a couple dollars in my pocket and was poised to buy it, I put it in the cart, then bumped into this girl I was trying to put the moves on at the time, so I leave Regina and pops with the cart... For the record, no I didn't get any action out of Tamika either, dammit. At the end of the night, apparently pops had gone ahead and paid for the car and I'd forgotten about it...
... until tonight that is...


Looks like we got ourselves a 1962 Chevy Bel Air, and it needs to be assembled...


Okay, let's bust open the packaging and see what we're up against...


Interior includes some speakers on the rear deck and a couple of Nitrous Express bottles where the back seat would have been...


Front brakes/wheels on, no choices on this one like we'd find on the Assembly Line in years to come...


Fuel cell and exhaust pipes...


Sit the body on the frame and turn 5 screws this time...





Now get back in that box:



On the whole, the "custom" nature of this one is not overplayed and I do not hate it... I mean, if I were doing this same car and was to do it in a showy nature, it would likely not be TOO dissimilar from this one...
Oh well, it is back in the top of my closet with dozens of others.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

True Story©... Stress Test

Ghetto-ass names; they're my birth control

The way I see it...