3/5/07

I heard another song that starts with the word “and” the other day, well, yesterday to be exact. I was going to make a point to remember what it was and got distracted by a dog with a puffy tail or something. Suffices to say, it was one of those current bands that all sound the same. Not that it is all that important though. In fact… Saturday morning I had to help mom get the house ready for a baby shower. Once she was happy, or at least satisfied, with the place, I went to the shop. Kevin was coming to show Barbara to one of his foster kids to see if it would be acceptable as a first car for him. While waiting I started working on George. I found a pair of bolts with nylon locking nuts in the spare bits left over from the Seven build. I also found a bracket thingy from a Datsun that had two well-spaced holes in it. There are fifty of these things lying around so they have to be something we always remove from a Datsun, but I can’t place what or where. Anyhoo, I fire up the TIG and zook the bolts into this piece. My thinking is I'd drill holes in the strut tower and use the bolt/bracket thingy from the wheel side to bolt the fuel pump in so that it is a one-man job to install. I get the thing zooked about the time Kevin shows up. I shut down the welder and meet them outside. We go look at Barbara and the kid seems interested. I show them around and we decide to go to the Motorsport Ranch for the NASA race. I clean up and lock the shop then we pile into cars. Two of the kids hop in Matilda with me and we’re off. I'm going to have to stop for a bit because I have to pee. I'll be back. I'm back. So, we get to the Ranch and they stop us at the gate to charge $10.00 a head to get in. We turn back. We sneak in the side entry and park then wander around for a bit. Once the allure of the racetrack has worn off, and the kids get cold and tired, we head north again. This time all of the kids ride with Kevin and I head back to the shop alone. I decide to go ahead and go to the shop since I'm not sure how long the baby shower is supposed to run. I pick up where I left off with the fuel pump installation. I setup the drill with the right-angle attachment and drill the first hole. I insert one bolt of the bracket thingy and scratch the paint where the second hole needs to be. I drill the second hole. Everything is perfect and the car starts and drives right away. Hooray! A flock of beautiful women run into the shop and offer to become my harem. A big bag of money falls from a plane and lands in front of the door of the shop then the plane swoops down and the pilot yells, “It’s ok, go ahead and keep it!” Then a Bigfoot rides up on a unicorn and… Wait a minute. Actually, the hole did not line up. Crap! I sit back and think about it for a bit. I had already put away the right-angle attachment and the drill so drilling another hole was inconvenient, not to mention a total pain in the ass like the other two had been. I decide to narrow the bracket. I cut it in half and remove some kerf then weld it back together. In a case of monumental optimism, I paint it as well. Now the bolts hit the bolt that holds the pump into its bracket and I can’t get a nut on them. I decide to hang the whole bracket thingy up and use free-spinning bolts from the pump side and nuts on the suspension side. I can get them all started but can’t hold both wrenches at the same time. Crap! I make another bracket with the bolts spaced where I need them. I'm not sure what made me think this one would work when the last didn’t. I fought with it until Pat showed up then fought with it some more. Finally I tossed the bracket aside, ran bolts through from the pump side, started the nuts, and handed Pat a wrench. “Back me up would you?” I said to him. We got the nuts tight and I stood back to admire it. It was dark-thirty and I was whipped. One damned fuel pump kicked my ass for a whole day. We decide to both call it a day and head to our respective homes. I spent the evening watching Dean Martin spy movies I had bought on Amazon last week. I was actually in bed by 2230 h. I'll tell y'all about Sunday tomorrow. I'll finish with another shout out to George: the grumpy old fart. Hey George! I know you’re reading this. Doesn’t it just burn you up when I mention you in here? Well, ha ha ha ha ha ha! You better have that blood pressure checked and try to relax a little! Remember, if you click that little “Comment” button down there you can tell your side!