You Knew You Weren't Going To Hear From Me, Right?

Ok, so it took a few days (a few?!) to get back here after the TA arrived. What did you (I?) expect?

The TA got here Wednesday morning, earlier that the driver estimated. Actually he came in around midnight, but stayed at the big strip mall shopping center parking lot nearby. I knew this in part because Liza called me on her way to work, past the center, called and said,

"Your car's here!"

The driver called and we arranged for HIM to drive the TA the mile to my house. I waited...and waited...and waited...finally, he came around the bend with THE BEAST!

(ok, maybe beast is not so accurate. But it's more beastly than anything I've ever owned)

Jeff the Driver was about three or four times my size, I noticed, as he squeezed himself out of the driver's seat. Checking everything, it looked like it had survived the trip just fine...no bottom falling out, no new dings or scratches to my eyes. The only thing that looked like it didn't survive was a corner of the headliner, in the back seat passenger side. An unsightly mess of old adhesive was showing.

Jeff the Driver had taken a long time b/c the car wouldn't start the first few times. "You need a tune-up", he announced. Hmmm...that, and according to my Owner's Manual, Jeff, there's a way to start a cold engine on one of these, unlike the other newer vehicles I saw on the truck when I dropped him back off.

First stop: the city police station for a VIN check. The female officer who came out to check could not have cared less about the fact that a 1979 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am in great condition was in her presence, but one of her fellow officers did. I must have spent 15 extra minutes at the station answering his questions and the city maintenance workers' questions about the car. So if you live in my town and got robbed around 9:45am or if your garbage was not picked up, now you know why.

Next, it was off to the dreaded nearby tax office to register. After doing all my internet homework, I thought I had all my ducks in a row. Yah, except now they no longer accept the actual insurance card, only the binder!

Luckily no one else knows this either, so they have a setup where you can call your insurance company and have them fax a binder to the tax office.

The clerk gave me a hard time about wanting a "Hobby/Antique" license plate. I would have given HER a hard time, except she was one of those people for whom figuring out their age is a challenge. So instead I told her the car was over 25 years old, and that qualifies it as an antique no matter how old SHE is.

It was a cheap trip: $18 for the title and $20 for the tag. No taxes, etc. I wasn't even required to title it, but I did it anyway.

Next, it was off to Nathan the Local Classic Car Restoration Guy. I pulled up amidst all the 1950s and 1960s cars. He came out and we had a nice conversation. He said he usually doesn't do any work on babies like mine, but since it was in such good shape, he'd be willing to do bits and pieces of restoration if I wanted it, or general maintenance.

He looked at the car closely and was under the impression that it had been painted AND that the Bird wasn't the original bird.

I pointed out the headliner and he said his guys up the street, who do all of his upholstry/interior work, could fix it. I went there and the guy said he couldn't. I decided to do a little research myself and then figure out what I wanted to do.

Finally, with the Georgia heat in full effect (the TAs welcome to Georgia? 102 degrees!) I took it to the house and into the garage that I had painstakingly un-cluttered on one side to be able to get the TA in there. Basically this is moving one mess from one side to create a bigger mess on the other.

I lifted the hood to cool the engine and went inside to (try to) work.

Welcome to Georgia, baby!