Tag: old cars

diagnostics

I’m familiar with the concept of digging deep. Chances are pretty solid that if you read this blog semi-regularly that you are, too. We’re all just trying to do a little better, aren’t we?

That’s why whether I’m sourcing a peculiar noise coming from my ’62 fairlane or I’m trying to assess why I can’t run as far today as I could last week, I know that a certain amount of deconstruction is required – in some cases, the literal taking-apart of a machine in order to assess the internal issue, and often repair some damage before careful reassembly is done so that you can find out if your hunch was right or not, totally risking the fact that you might have to do it again in the event you were wrong (because after all, being wrong is part of learning).

I have 100% been there and I will 100% return there at some point, but I am also certain that I will be a better person for it. If I can’t come away from the situation without some nugget of knowledge to share, or compassion to extend to someone else who’s also struggling, then opportunity was lost in the process.

We’re not talking about cars anymore, are we?

Sure we are – but that logic extends beyond 60-year old steel. Beyond skin & bones & calories & deficits, and into our connection to each other as human beings. Sure, I’ll gravitate towards like-minded people with similar hobbies to myself but I’m not always sure I have any real influence on them. I’ll wonder if I am honestly enriching the lives of the people close to me, or do I have a better effect on people who don’t know me, and aren’t aware of my laundry list of flaws?

Sometimes this is referred to as ‘hometown prophet syndrome’ and I experience it as a musician constantly. I’ll always love playing shows on tour more than in my hometown, because my hometown has seen me at my busiest, most distracted, worst, drunkest, and most debaucherously defunct, whereas a few hours down the road, they know me as someone who’s always been good, always been present, and has never had a conflicting engagement keeping me away. I imagine that it’s for the same reason that my own kid will never really think I’m cool… that’s not my role.

I have no resolve for that, it’s more a steam of consciousness flowing out of my fingers as I sit here. I didn’t really even intend for this post to go in that direction – but I will continue to peel back the layers, and try to do better, and be better.

I suppose it doesn’t matter who I can help, as long as I can help.

escaping reality

“I’m beginning to find some balance between escapism and reality and it’s mostly because I am both wrapped up in a busy life, and emotionally supported. “

Once upon a time I was a kid, and through a strange set of circumstances, I acquired a guitar. It cost me 8 months of flyer delivery and it saved my teenage life. In service of that, I elected to learn absolutely everything I possibly could about the instrument and I got really good at it. Still am.

This became the template. I dove in deep with various girls what would receive my attention, booze, pills, vintage automobiles, rock & roll bands, fitness, and food. Clearly not all of these things are bad things, but they’re not all good things either.

I’m beginning to find some balance between escapism and reality and it’s mostly because I am both wrapped up in a busy life, and emotionally supported. This isn’t the summer I wanted, but it seems to be the summer I needed. Through varying circumstances, I am not playing anywhere near as many shows as I’d hope to – but it seems fortunate that I am available to learn the ropes of a new job, and to navigate some changes at home, as well as contend with an injured drummer. I’ve also found the desired time to tend to my 1962 Ford Fairlane and get it up to snuff in a way it hasn’t been in a long time.

That Ford is also where I tend to escape to.

We all have our ways of coping with things and I know I am a project-based kind of person, so I’ve got no guilt around the balancing of my car and my obligations but I can almost smell my desire to just crawl under that car and stay there for days and just hide. The first indicator of that is my desire to work on it is greater than my desire to drive it, if only slightly. Don’t get me wrong, I want to drive the shit out of it (and I do!) but there is an immense sense of satisfaction that comes with taking something apart and putting it back together and making it work better by doing so.

As a father, I hope my kid gets bitten by this bug, too – if only because it’s been so helpful for me, but I have to understand and acknowledge that just because it worked well for me does not mean it will work well for everyone.

In other words, I want to have common interests with my child, but I fully understand that the work that needs to be done to maintain that is mine, not theirs.

So if this hobby stays mine, then it stays mine… but it still serves me, and helps me set myself straight so that I can serve others.

labor fruit

“So much work had been done without any serious driving between jobs that when I finally got it on the road, it ran and drove so good that it was almost unrecognizable. “

I have a car.
It’s a 1962 Ford Fairlane 500 and I bought it in 2010.
For a while, it was my only car.
I love that car. But that’s an easy thing for me to say right now… it wasn’t so easy to say that a couple years ago.

With some much needed willpower and some encouragement; and well, some straight up miraculous help from a friend, I rekindled my love for this car in the fall of 2022 and since then I’ve poured a lot of energy and burnt a lot of calories improving it. It’s been incredibly cathartic… and it runs and drives better than it ever has in my 13 years with it.

I’ve been driving it more this year than I have in a long time… but I even needed encouragement to do that.

I’ve really enjoyed the work. Over the past 6 years (2 of which I was angry and did nothing), I’ve rewired the entire car, replaced the alternator, put new wheels & tires on it, designed (and redesigned and redesigned) a new mount for the alternator, put an electronic ignition in it, rebuilt the transmission, put new u-joints in it, did some brake work, painted the underside of the floor, replaced the window rubber, put in some aftermarket gauges (and almost burned the car down doing so), put in a new clutch (again), pulled out the interior door panels and cleaned out the insides of the doors, made custom exhaust, and Lu & I are wrapping our heads around the interior.

So much work had been done without any serious driving between jobs that when I finally got it on the road, it ran and drove so good that it was almost unrecognizable.

What I didn’t do was stop & smell the roses.

At this point I’m spending some time behind the wheel and enjoying the fruits of my labor and it’s been reminding me that it’s okay to do that in other aspects of life, too.

Maybe you need that reminder, too…?
I sure did.

longer days

“We’re not there yet, and thus we can’t live there yet – but this IS a time of preparation and I am ready to enjoy that preparation as well. We live here, in this preparation time, and it’s okay for you to love it. It’s only going to happen once.”

December 21st is the shortest day of the year, and it’s starting to become a little more obvious now that despite brief sucker-punches of bone-chilling weather, spring is coming. I know it’ll be the middle of May before anything really comes close to being dependable in the forecast but seeing that sun come up and stay up a little longer makes me think about what’s to come.

I’m 6 weeks out from a new album release and we have a single being tracked throughout Canada, which means the phone is starting to ring and the inbox is filling up with booking opportunities. Hopefully you’re hearing the new single and seeing it in your algorithm wherever you are… and if you’re not, perhaps you will, and if you don’t perhaps you’ll experience the next single which is due to come out on the 6th of April.

I’m grateful for the still-dark early mornings that remain mine. I only share them with the other early morning gym rats who have no idea who I am outside of that facility and I like it that way. A few people there know I play music but most don’t, and that’s okay. The gym is not a social club, at least not at 6am when I am arriving there.

It’s time to finish up a few projects on my 1962 Ford Fairlane 500 and prepare for the driving season. I aim to maximize my time in the driver’s seat of that car this year, as I’ve got some lost time to make up for with that car. The most special part of that is seeing the hard work I’ve put in over the winter pay off. For all I know at this point, I’ll sell that car this year – I mean, I have no plan to, but I try to stay fluid with these things, and honestly that kind of cash injection could really make a difference in another old car. That all remains to be seen.

All this to say that there are seasons to life, and we’re rounding one out – one that’s hard and busy, and it’s leading us into the spring & summer when the days get longer and we play outdoors, drive cool cars, and enjoy what life has to offer.

We’re not there yet, and thus we can’t live there yet – but this IS a time of preparation and I am ready to enjoy that preparation as well. We live here, in this preparation time, and it’s okay for you to love it. It’s only going to happen once.