Hi guys, So, yesterday I took my Contemporary 427 Cobra to the Vacaville Firestone shop. They handle all my speciality mechanical work, i.e. tire mounting, wheel alignment etc. You know that most shops like that have one Old Guy who has been there forever, and is by car the best and most experienced fellow on the property. He is the one that is entrusted with all the Special Jobs. Over the years I've made friends with the Old Guy at the shop, a retired C-141 flight engineer and Harley-riding gentle-natured biker dude named Mike. He's probably in his late 50's or early 60's and looks just like Santa Claus, complete with white hair and beard. Anyway, I took the Cobra in there to get the wheels aligned. I knew the rears were okay, but the front end had completely come apart and had components replaced, and everything was way out of whack. To make a long story short, I was allowed to work on the car alongside Mike, and despite this (not because of it, no snickering in the back!), it still took over four hours to get it set up properly. We finished up about 30 minutes after advertised quitting time, I backed the car off the rack, and they were ready to see me drive on home, but I said, "I'm not leaving yet, not until you drive the car yourself and see how you like it." At that, he literally JUMPED a foot in the air! He then ran cackling with glee into the back of the store, pulling off his greasy jumpsuit and getting himself cleaned up. I gave him the lessons required to enter a Cobra, showed him the basic controls, hopped in the passenger seat, and away we went. He has a normal loop that involves entering the freeway, driving down one exit, then driving back on surface streets. I could see that he was just in a state of shock as we got onto the freeway. He just couldn't BELIEVE how fast the car was, and how much fun it was to drive. More to the point though, he couldn't believe that he, yes HE, was driving a 427 Cobra. It had been a life-long dream and he had convinced himself that there was no way it would ever happen--and yet here he was, driving one down the road, on a beautiful spring evening. As we approached the exit, he meekly asked if he could take it down to the next exit, and I said, "Hell, you can drive it all the way to San Francisco if you want!" He laughed at that, said, "Don't tempt me!" and then took it a bit further down the road, turned around and drove it back to the shop. When he got out of the car, he was visibly stunned, still in a state of shock. The other employees were waiting for his report, and he just started waving his arms and the hyperbole flowed freely. As I was paying for the work (they cut me a pretty decent break on the labor, but it was still a hell of an expensive alignment), I could hear him going on and on about the car outside. When I came out, he thanked me again and again. I thought to myself, "Now here's an opportunity to make a really nice guy really REALLY happy." I asked him, "Say, are you doing anything after work tomorrow?" He said no, quizzically, and I said, "How about I swing by here and you take the car for a proper drive, say, around the back roads up by Lake Berryessa for an hour or so?" He just about fell over. He promised he'd be there, he'd make sure all the work was done, he told his boss he'd skip his lunch break to make sure all their projects got out the door by quitting time, etc. etc. And so today I went and picked him up. He took the wheel and we just drove and drove, all through the hills, for about an hour and a half. You have never seen a grown man enjoying himself so much. He told me that the previous night, he had gone home and then phoned all his friends all over the country telling them what he was about to do. He never really pushed the car very hard at all--he sort of has the Harley cruiser mentality, and told me that he was never into the road-racing thing, but rather into just straight-line stuff. So I felt supremely comfortable, since he was driving the car at 'normal' speeds, certainly half as fast and a quarte r as hard as I normally drive it. It was clear that he just couldn't believe his good fortune. At one point he told me that this was the last thing he had ever hoped to achieve in his lifetime, and if he died tomorrow he'd die a perfectly happy man. And he wasn't kidding. When we finally returned to the shop, 60 miles later, he stepped out and gave the car a good, hard look, and thanked me again and again. Then he said, "You know, I feel like I've been blessed. I oughta start going to church again!" As he strapped on his helmet and prepared to climb aboard his Harley, I pulled into the street and roasted the tires, bouncing off the rev limiter as I roared up the hill and out of sight. I could see him standing on the sidewalk, with a look of awe on his face. The point is this: There are some very, very good people on this earth who, for various reasons, will never have the financial wherewithal to enjoy the cars that we take for granted. While they are special to us, for some of these people they occupy an almost mythical place in their lives. While I would not advocate just throwing the keys to your pride and joy to any guy who happens to take a fancy to it, I would urge you to consider the happiness that you can bestow upon a deserving person, with virtually no effort on your behalf, and from time to time, consider sharing your toys. As much fun as it is to flog the hell out of that car, I was reminded once again that sometimes the most fun in owning a car like that is sitting in the passenger seat, looking sideways at the driver's face as he enjoys the rapture..... Mike
Mike: Great story. You have enriched that man's life as well as that of all his friends, and you sure made my day. Ron ----- Original Message ----- From: <MikeLDrew@aol.com> To: <ShelbyMustang@carmemories.com> Sent: Thursday, April 21, 2005 12:42 AM Subject: How to make somebody's life.... > Hi guys, > > So, yesterday I took my Contemporary 427 Cobra to the Vacaville Firestone > shop. They handle all my speciality mechanical work, i.e. tire mounting, > wheel > alignment etc. > > You know that most shops like that have one Old Guy who has been there > forever, and is by car the best and most experienced fellow on the > property. He is > the one that is entrusted with all the Special Jobs. > > Over the years I've made friends with the Old Guy at the shop, a retired > C-141 flight engineer and Harley-riding gentle-natured biker dude named > Mike. > He's probably in his late 50's or early 60's and looks just like Santa > Claus, > complete with white hair and beard. > > Anyway, I took the Cobra in there to get the wheels aligned. I knew the > rears were okay, but the front end had completely come apart and had > components > replaced, and everything was way out of whack. > > To make a long story short, I was allowed to work on the car alongside > Mike, > and despite this (not because of it, no snickering in the back!), it still > took over four hours to get it set up properly. > > We finished up about 30 minutes after advertised quitting time, I backed > the > car off the rack, and they were ready to see me drive on home, but I said, > "I'm not leaving yet, not until you drive the car yourself and see how you > like > it." > > At that, he literally JUMPED a foot in the air! He then ran cackling with > glee into the back of the store, pulling off his greasy jumpsuit and > getting > himself cleaned up. > > I gave him the lessons required to enter a Cobra, showed him the basic > controls, hopped in the passenger seat, and away we went. He has a normal > loop that > involves entering the freeway, driving down one exit, then driving back on > surface streets. > > I could see that he was just in a state of shock as we got onto the > freeway. > He just couldn't BELIEVE how fast the car was, and how much fun it was to > drive. More to the point though, he couldn't believe that he, yes HE, was > driving a 427 Cobra. It had been a life-long dream and he had convinced > himself > that there was no way it would ever happen--and yet here he was, driving > one down > the road, on a beautiful spring evening. As we approached the exit, he > meekly asked if he could take it down to the next exit, and I said, "Hell, > you can > drive it all the way to San Francisco if you want!" > > He laughed at that, said, "Don't tempt me!" and then took it a bit further > down the road, turned around and drove it back to the shop. > > When he got out of the car, he was visibly stunned, still in a state of > shock. The other employees were waiting for his report, and he just > started waving > his arms and the hyperbole flowed freely. As I was paying for the work > (they > cut me a pretty decent break on the labor, but it was still a hell of an > expensive alignment), I could hear him going on and on about the car > outside. > > When I came out, he thanked me again and again. > > I thought to myself, "Now here's an opportunity to make a really nice guy > really REALLY happy." I asked him, "Say, are you doing anything after > work > tomorrow?" He said no, quizzically, and I said, "How about I swing by > here and you > take the car for a proper drive, say, around the back roads up by Lake > Berryessa for an hour or so?" > > He just about fell over. He promised he'd be there, he'd make sure all > the > work was done, he told his boss he'd skip his lunch break to make sure all > their projects got out the door by quitting time, etc. etc. > > And so today I went and picked him up. He took the wheel and we just > drove > and drove, all through the hills, for about an hour and a half. You have > never > seen a grown man enjoying himself so much. He told me that the previous > night, he had gone home and then phoned all his friends all over the > country > telling them what he was about to do. > > He never really pushed the car very hard at all--he sort of has the Harley > cruiser mentality, and told me that he was never into the road-racing > thing, but > rather into just straight-line stuff. So I felt supremely comfortable, > since > he was driving the car at 'normal' speeds, certainly half as fast and a > quarte > r as hard as I normally drive it. > > It was clear that he just couldn't believe his good fortune. At one point > he > told me that this was the last thing he had ever hoped to achieve in his > lifetime, and if he died tomorrow he'd die a perfectly happy man. And he > wasn't > kidding. > > When we finally returned to the shop, 60 miles later, he stepped out and > gave > the car a good, hard look, and thanked me again and again. Then he said, > "You know, I feel like I've been blessed. I oughta start going to church > again!" > > As he strapped on his helmet and prepared to climb aboard his Harley, I > pulled into the street and roasted the tires, bouncing off the rev limiter > as I > roared up the hill and out of sight. I could see him standing on the > sidewalk, > with a look of awe on his face. > > The point is this: There are some very, very good people on this earth > who, > for various reasons, will never have the financial wherewithal to enjoy > the > cars that we take for granted. While they are special to us, for some of > these > people they occupy an almost mythical place in their lives. While I would > not > advocate just throwing the keys to your pride and joy to any guy who > happens > to take a fancy to it, I would urge you to consider the happiness that you > can > bestow upon a deserving person, with virtually no effort on your behalf, > and > from time to time, consider sharing your toys. > > As much fun as it is to flog the hell out of that car, I was reminded once > again that sometimes the most fun in owning a car like that is sitting in > the > passenger seat, looking sideways at the driver's face as he enjoys the > rapture..... > > Mike >
it's not only neat to do that, but it's also neat for folks to see those fantastic machines that we are lucky to cuddle for a short while going down the road and watching the heads turn. This happened to my wife and I yesterday while on the way from Hot Springs to Memphis. A few miles out of Little Rock on I-40 I was watching traffic on the West lanes and I said to my wife, "look at that, there are four Cobra's heading towards us!" Sure enough, two blue's, one yellow and one red. My wife said " now that's something you don't ever see!" Now that was cool! Not only did it make my day, it made me want to figure out how to get one painted highland green metallic with white stripes to match our KR. Now that would be C.O.O.L! (now if I could only loose a 100 lbs. so I could get into the Beast!) Dan Mike that was ----- Original Message ----- From: <MikeLDrew@aol.com> To: <ShelbyMustang@carmemories.com> Sent: Wednesday, April 20, 2005 11:42 PM Subject: How to make somebody's life.... > Hi guys, > > So, yesterday I took my Contemporary 427 Cobra to the Vacaville Firestone > shop. They handle all my specialty mechanical work, i.e. tire mounting, wheel > alignment etc. > > You know that most shops like that have one Old Guy who has been there > forever, and is by car the best and most experienced fellow on the property. He is > the one that is entrusted with all the Special Jobs. > > Over the years I've made friends with the Old Guy at the shop, a retired > C-141 flight engineer and Harley-riding gentle-natured biker dude named Mike. > He's probably in his late 50's or early 60's and looks just like Santa Claus, > complete with white hair and beard. > > Anyway, I took the Cobra in there to get the wheels aligned. I knew the > rears were okay, but the front end had completely come apart and had components > replaced, and everything was way out of whack. > > To make a long story short, I was allowed to work on the car alongside Mike, > and despite this (not because of it, no snickering in the back!), it still > took over four hours to get it set up properly. > > We finished up about 30 minutes after advertised quitting time, I backed the > car off the rack, and they were ready to see me drive on home, but I said, > "I'm not leaving yet, not until you drive the car yourself and see how you like > it." > > At that, he literally JUMPED a foot in the air! He then ran cackling with > glee into the back of the store, pulling off his greasy jumpsuit and getting > himself cleaned up. > > I gave him the lessons required to enter a Cobra, showed him the basic > controls, hopped in the passenger seat, and away we went. He has a normal loop that > involves entering the freeway, driving down one exit, then driving back on > surface streets. > > I could see that he was just in a state of shock as we got onto the freeway. > He just couldn't BELIEVE how fast the car was, and how much fun it was to > drive. More to the point though, he couldn't believe that he, yes HE, was > driving a 427 Cobra. It had been a life-long dream and he had convinced himself > that there was no way it would ever happen--and yet here he was, driving one down > the road, on a beautiful spring evening. As we approached the exit, he > meekly asked if he could take it down to the next exit, and I said, "Hell, you can > drive it all the way to San Francisco if you want!" > > He laughed at that, said, "Don't tempt me!" and then took it a bit further > down the road, turned around and drove it back to the shop. > > When he got out of the car, he was visibly stunned, still in a state of > shock. The other employees were waiting for his report, and he just started waving > his arms and the hyperbole flowed freely. As I was paying for the work (they > cut me a pretty decent break on the labor, but it was still a hell of an > expensive alignment), I could hear him going on and on about the car outside. > > When I came out, he thanked me again and again. > > I thought to myself, "Now here's an opportunity to make a really nice guy > really REALLY happy." I asked him, "Say, are you doing anything after work > tomorrow?" He said no, quizzically, and I said, "How about I swing by here and you > take the car for a proper drive, say, around the back roads up by Lake > Berryessa for an hour or so?" > > He just about fell over. He promised he'd be there, he'd make sure all the > work was done, he told his boss he'd skip his lunch break to make sure all > their projects got out the door by quitting time, etc. etc. > > And so today I went and picked him up. He took the wheel and we just drove > and drove, all through the hills, for about an hour and a half. You have never > seen a grown man enjoying himself so much. He told me that the previous > night, he had gone home and then phoned all his friends all over the country > telling them what he was about to do. > > He never really pushed the car very hard at all--he sort of has the Harley > cruiser mentality, and told me that he was never into the road-racing thing, but > rather into just straight-line stuff. So I felt supremely comfortable, since > he was driving the car at 'normal' speeds, certainly half as fast and a quarte > r as hard as I normally drive it. > > It was clear that he just couldn't believe his good fortune. At one point he > told me that this was the last thing he had ever hoped to achieve in his > lifetime, and if he died tomorrow he'd die a perfectly happy man. And he wasn't > kidding. > > When we finally returned to the shop, 60 miles later, he stepped out and gave > the car a good, hard look, and thanked me again and again. Then he said, > "You know, I feel like I've been blessed. I oughta start going to church again!" > > As he strapped on his helmet and prepared to climb aboard his Harley, I > pulled into the street and roasted the tires, bouncing off the rev limiter as I > roared up the hill and out of sight. I could see him standing on the sidewalk, > with a look of awe on his face. > > The point is this: There are some very, very good people on this earth who, > for various reasons, will never have the financial wherewithal to enjoy the > cars that we take for granted. While they are special to us, for some of these > people they occupy an almost mythical place in their lives. While I would not > advocate just throwing the keys to your pride and joy to any guy who happens > to take a fancy to it, I would urge you to consider the happiness that you can > bestow upon a deserving person, with virtually no effort on your behalf, and > from time to time, consider sharing your toys. > > As much fun as it is to flog the hell out of that car, I was reminded once > again that sometimes the most fun in owning a car like that is sitting in the > passenger seat, looking sideways at the driver's face as he enjoys the > rapture..... > > Mike >