It's turning out to be a love-hate relationship.
I love how cute the old blue '52 is, and how people wanna give me thumbs up when I drive by.
I hate the all-too-ridiculously-frequent stops at the gas station to fuel up, thanks to the eight miles a gallon I am getting. (even if the guy fueling up next to me wants to give me a thumbs up and ask all about it.)
I love how great the upholstery job came out, and the snazzy black snap on cover for the truck bed.
I love the original cutie-patootie sun visor. I love how all of my pals at work wanna ride to lunch in old blue, 'coz it's just so danged much fun.
I hate that I am getting a whopping eight miles to the gallon. (Maybe I already mentioned that.)
Thank goodness my Rock n' Roll Buddy has (way, way) more patience and ingenuity in the area of working on improving the mileage challenge. He says with some adjustments and improvements I can look forward to getting upwards of twelve miles to the gallon sometime soon.
Apparently driving something this sweet has its' price. Right now I am feeling pretty blessed to have somebody by my side that not only sees my vision of a dream car and is willing to figure out a way to make it possible.