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Originally posted on my Tumblr (

Sometimes I think the Universe is working against me, teasing me.

I bought the Chevelle last September and was jazzed to work on it. But, on the way home, the steering wheel popped off…while driving on the freeway (recounted in my blog entry on September 26th). I remained calm and placed it back on the column and got home safe.

However, after doing a little research, I found out there weren’t many reproduction parts for Third Generation Chevelles.

“Okay,” I told myself,”This is not a setback.”

Then, the Pontiac showed up on Craigslist no more than a week and a half after I bought the Chevelle.

“Why did such an awesome car have to go for sale after I already bought a car,” I asked the Universe.

Lacking impulse control, I went after it.

Then, the Universe told the previous owner to waffle about selling it. This prompted me to look at another car (1969 Buick Skylark). However, that deal fell through. It worked out in the end (the Pontiac, that is)…until after money exchanged hands.

The. Car. Would. Not. Start. I mean seriously! Really? I had just driven it half an hour before I paid the previous owner.

The Universe pointed a cosmically cruel finger at me and laughed. With it’s far reaching powers, it struck down my stupid neutral safety switch.

But it got fixed. And I drove it for about a week. Due to some foresight (or, in hindsight, stupidity), I parked her in the garage next to the Chevelle and decided to wait till late winter/early spring to start working on both cars.

But, that lil ol’ Universe had other plans for me!

After a few months of sitting, I felt it was time to start the cars and let them run for a bit.

The Chevelle, my poor neglected child, started right up. She revealed herself to be bulletproof. I was pleased.

Then, my wife and I decided to film a video walkaround of the Pontiac. I started filming. My wife tried to start the car. She cranked, but did not start.

I felt the Universe’s dark plans coursing through this new setback.

Oh, well. These things happen.

These cars aren’t called projects for no reason.

In the end, I bought a new Silverado. Which, of course has nothing to do with the above entry.

Twists of fate. That’s it.