It took 40 years. but my search finally bore fruit.
Somewhere around 40 years ago. my good friend Fred claimed the family Monaco wagon had a 440 with an “8 Barrel” carb. He was half right, twice over. The Monaco had a 440. It had half an 8 barrel, i.e., a 4 barrel carb.
I teased him mercilessly because there was no such thing as an “8 barrel.” Two 4 bbls? Sure. Four 2 bbls? sounded needlessly complex, so maybe a Ferrari had that. Neither one was a 1×8.
Still, I felt bad, because it was a silly teenage boast, made impossible because he treated the parts list like a math question. 4×2=2×4=1×8. All =8, right. So, for the last 10 years, I have been on a conscious hunt for an example of Chrysler calling a 2×4(or any other math equivalent) setup an “8 barrel.”
The guys in the Mopar clubs said I was dumb. Chrysler materials on Google from the 1960s were of no help. I thought it was pointless, yet I kept looking under the hoods of any V8 MoPar from the 1950s through the early 70s.
On Saturday, I went to the Gateway Classic Cars show in Deer Valley. Tucked away between Cadillacs and Camaros was a yellow Dodge Dart Swinger. Ho hum. Seen it. Uncle Bill had one with a vinyl roof and a 225 “slant six.”
This one had gaudy yellow paint and an oversized hood scoop. What Gives? Who does that – wait, what’s that on the scoop?
Read it and weep.
Why yes, they ARE real! It’s not a misprint.
I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t stumbled upon it personally. You are forgiven, Fred. Vindicated. Exonerated. Right.
Earlier, we talked about our internet stalker, who was ratcheting up the rhetoric beyond the invisible line of “decorum.” [Ed.: As if you and decorum belong in the same sentence.] Evidently, all I had to say was “I hate those cars, but I like yours.” Problem solved. Rodney summarizes it best.
I am not immune to criticism. I often deserve it. Sometimes, I even invite it. I guess with eleventeen different websites and blogs and such, public criticism is inevitible.
Somewhere, things crossed a line. On Kiss My Asphalt, I ran into a commenter calling himself slrman. Constructive and interactive and then suddenly he went personal on me because I wasn’t a cheerleader for the state where I currently reside – saying I “lack the ethics and courage to leave.” [Ed.: Nah. Just money and a landing spot.]
In February 2014 I saw a 1986 Omni GLH and wrote a story about Omnis in general. In September 2015, a commenter in Surprise Arizona found it and started criticizing me about my opinions on the car line. Then someone self-identified as Robin Whipple at the same IP address joined in.
Sometime later, I decided to bolster the content of a newer site, Asphalt Valhalla (when it redirected to Kiss My Asphalt), with content from my other sites. The post with the GLH got noticed by an anonymous commenter with the exact same IP address in August 2016.
“Here we go again,” I thought. See for yourself here.
Evidently, there was some connection between the commenter and the GLH. Maybe the anonymous poster was Robin’s husband? Maybe this was some family project? Who knows. Anyway, I obviously touched a nerve, even though I praised the red one that seems near and dear.
So on we go, I guess. One wonders what the next retort from Surprise will be.
Lighten up, Dad.
Where I saw one: High school parking lot
Nostalgia factor: 6/10 – Ahh, memories – mostly not mine.
Baseline: 2, since I never personally owned one; +1 because Dad had one; +1 because it had 4 wheel drive; +1 because it had a V8; -1 because it didn’t have a 440; -12 (includes -2 for no column shifter) because it had a manual – this meant a tractor transmission, and a 3 foot gear shifter; -7 because as far as I could tell, it shifted like a tractor too – as smooth and serene as Ned Beatty in the woods; -1 because I never drove it; -5 because Dad refused to take the roof off; -1 because “It might leak when you put it back on” is lame; -1 because “where would we store the roof?”; -10 because “duh, you just built that huge garage you never park in.”
Continue reading “ACID FLASHBACK THURSDAY: 1975 Dodge Ramcharger”
Yo may remember this truck from such adventures as Flat Out in Ohio. It’s no mere Adventurer 150. It’s the quickest “car” in America, ca. 1977. And the best part? It’s not an overtuned diesel, compensator smokestacks notwithstanding. No giant clouds of gritty black smoke to ruin everyone else’s view.
Continue reading “Dodge Little Red Truck”