Saturday, July 16, 2011

Till we meet again...

I used to be in a pretty tight knit and small car club. Just a few guys, here in Northern stress. We were mainly just like-minded individuals who would sit and drink beers together, bullshitting the night away. Late one night we came up with the most choice name ever. Haters Car Club. So we scraped up some cash, and put it together for some plaques to be made. I designed the plaque, and off the design went. We get the plates, attach them to our rides, and are rollin' on cloud 9. A couple months later, I get a few disturbing pictures sent to me. Long story slightly shorter, it is a pic of a very similar plaque. Turns out it was stolen by some real-life Germans. They somehow got a pic of the plaque or maybe even a casting from the foundry? Well, these krauts proceeded to start up a German chapter without any of our knowledge. The shitty part is, a couple of their cars were better than ours. I remember they had this sweet Model A, all done up nice and traditional, sun-crazed creamy paint, simple flathead, tall bias plies on big wires, weathered king bee lights, 4" chop, etc.

Well, nowadays, our club is mainly a memory of fun times. We still have our retired plaques hanging on the walls in our respective garages. But the cars are for the most part gone. Children, mortgages, and 'real jobs' have taken the place of our 4-wheeled friends. Maybe it's all for the better. The 'scene" was getting a little thick with flat-black honda accord RATRODS, regulation 5" levi cuffs, and fat chicks with parasols. It was maybe all that jive that pushed us this direction. All the while, our plaques are waiting quietly. Collecting dust, yet gaining a certain 'glow'. Quietly waiting. Waiting to make it onto another old ride again. Waiting to see what the Germans have going on.

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