The Old Car Nut Book was designed with the idea that EVERYONE in the old car hobby has a story or two to tell. These are stories from regular Old Car Nuts from across America. Contributors range from people like the average Joe at a car show to collectors and restorers that are very well known and respected in their local communities. The stories in this book tell about the contributor's experiences from the time that cars first caught their eye up to their latest project and reveal the people and events that made an impact on them. You'll laugh and you'll cry. You'll step right into the past with each story told. Excerpts from The Old Car Nut Book My wife said, "You paid how much for what? What are you, president of the Stupid Club?" I guess I have yet to learn my lesson. Maybe my dad was right! She had heard me coming from a block away and watched with amusement as I tried to extract myself from the Pantera. As I clumsily attempted to exit the car, my foot caught on the seat and I almost landed on my keister in front of the whole neighborhood! Vicki chuckled and said, wryly, "Any cool factor you may have by owning that car will immediately be obliterated when they see you trying to get out of it!" I put my foot to the floor and unleashed its full explosive power. It kicked the car into a hard fishtail to the right, which is exactly what I wanted. I held my foot to the floor while looking out the right side of the windshield. I could kinda hear my passenger screaming something, but didn't care. I slammed it into second gear and the force caused the rubber dash pad that covered the entire length of the dash to fly off into John's lap. Fishtailing to the left now, the screaming was getting much louder but I still couldn't make it out clearly. I slammed it into third, revving between gears enough to go sideways one more time before shifting to fourth and coasting. I'd slide behind the huge steering wheel, peer out the tiny windows, and dream that I was driving it. Of course, in my dreams it was pristine, rather than the rusting hulk sitting in the briars on two flat tires that it really was. Someday, I'm gonna have one of these, I'd tell myself. Resigning myself to saying goodbye, I bent and gave her a final kiss on the hood and walked away. I was so upset that I forgot to even take any pictures. Walking away, I didn't look back and I've never seen her again, but I keep going back to the New England Summer Nationals every year. I raced with some of the biggest names in Stock Car Racing, like Ralph Earnhart, Gale Yarborough, David Pearson, and Lee Petty. I remember a young Dale Earnhart hanging around with all of us drivers at the track when he was just a little boy. Again, he revved his engine to demonstrate the deep throaty sound of the old glass pack mufflers as he rocked back and forth in his seat, anxiety about to get the best of him. I was sure he was going to jump the light early. I revved back. He was awe struck, to say the least, and didn't speak for a few minutes. He was just taking it all in. This was an extremely "special" moment for us both and one I will carry for with me forever.