I introduced this personal project in message one, regarding the work being done on my father’s 1963 pickup truck. It has been setting idle in California, my home state, since his death in 1981 and I brought it too Wisconsin in 2013 as part of a larger family resettlement program, which allowed me to take care of my brother during the remaining years of her life. She got my attention and the truck continued to sit idle. Until now.
Part one of this account described the work being done on the wheels. The greasy, grimy cleanup work, which composed my part of the process, was supported by a couple of photographic images to verify that I did indeed get my hands dirty for a good cause. Now I am pleased to provide something of a grand reveal as my friend and collaborator in this effort, Dave Lee, has completed the brake assembly for each wheel. He gets the technical credit for this achievement. I am just the duffer with dirt beneath my fingernails.
My one other accomplishment can also be verified at this time. This involves the removal of the bench seat and the cleaning of the cab. Beyond the usual accumulation of dust and dirt one can expect to find when cleaning an object or structure, whose lonely life of decades during has been outside, there was also a good collection of dead leaves, discarded parts, trash and the evidence of rodent infestation. Apparently some creature made good use of the truck as a habitat in the absence of human occupation.
As a child I was devoted to watching Saturday morning cartoons and an avid consumer of the sponsors’ products, especially those with a high sugar content. This was an age when one of my favorite cereals, Trix, only came in three colors; raspberry red, lemon yellow and orange orange. General Mills, the cereal’s manufacturer, promoted its product with the slogan that “Trix are for kids.” (Note: I left out the reference to the silly rabbit in the tag line as being inconsequential to my message).
I’ll gladly and faithfully follow the cereal peoples’ discriminatory lead in the promotion of my own manufacturing product, the repair of dad’s ’63 Chevy, by saying that trucks are for people, especially vintage pickup trucks, which feature prominently in one’s family history. No varmints allowed!
More as it happens.