The chill is finally starting to dissipate from my basement. It was downright cold for a couple of hours. The smell of gasoline still lingers, however. The garage door was open while Mr X turned his attention to one of his unfinished projects, the 30+ year old Jeep that has been taking up space in garages in our houses for the last decade. It has not moved under its own power in all of that time, and then some. (There was that one time in New Mexico where I was driving the tow vehicle and Mr X was standing in the seat-less hulk trailing behind me, riding like an Egyptian warrior in a chariot, but that doesn't count as being under its own power. It was just a hell of a spectacle on the road.) Once in California, during the first year or so he owned it, I heard him fire up the engine when he was first tearing it apart, and it was like pressing my ear to a large caliber machine gun. I think I assumed that it would always sound so rough. While we were in South Carolina, he tore the thing completely apart to sandblast all of the rust off of it and start from scratch. When he went into the DMV to register it, the only part of the Jeep that went with him was the two-inch strip of metal that made up the VIN plate.
The Jeep has been mostly reassembled, sitting in my garage all of this time, waiting for completion. There were still wiring issues to research, new seat belts to find (they are in a box somewhere...), and some issue with the radiator that required a special order pipe or hose or whatever the proper nomenclature is for the hard plastic tube that he just acquired this week. This evening, with the garage door open, my entire house reeking of gasoline, I sat in the basement, getting caught up on Daily Show episodes on TV, and I heard a noise. He had proved earlier this afternoon that the starter would turn over, but nothing came of it. Tonight, for the first time in years, I heard actual combustion. It wasn't nearly as percussive as the last time. It was more of a rumbly purr, like a big orange and black tiger. Unfortunately, he is having a little difficulty getting the timing adjusted accurately, so it doesn't run for long. But it runs. I swore this evening, one time before I die I am going to ride in that vehicle on a road. (Or "a road" as I sarcastically refer to the boulder-strewn tracks in the mountains where I don't particularly dare to tread very often.)
I'm still out beating the bushes, trying to flush out new clients. I went to meet with a new guy this afternoon, at the shop he owns in a town near here. I thought he was an interesting character, and I think I could enjoy working with him. He needs to wait until year's end to get his ducks in a row, but I am going to stay in his consciousness so that come January, he is a real client. I totally get what he's looking for, and I know where to find it. Bring it, dude. I got your back.
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