1936 Plymouth

Once upon a time I was a bright shiny new 1936 Plymouth DeLuxe P2 2 Door Sedan. This Play Boy bought me in Cali. Ooh and what good times we did have, the nights on the beaches, the Parties, the Girls.., if I weren't sworn to secrecy. But I was always waxed shiny as new to impress all the ladies, I was well taken care of, spoiled you might even say. Then came along this one special girl... No more nights on the beach... just one girl, boy what a change. Then came the house, a nice driveway under my tires, talk of a garage to keep me out of the weather, everything was going great, only my friend was forgetting more often then not, my little needs. And soon I found myself broken and in the back yard with a much younger car parked on my driveway.

 
I thought my days were over till one day came this Handyman to work on the house, he spied me in the back yard, and as my X Play Boy friend was short cash, they made a deal for me. The Handyman was my new found friend, he fixed me all up, even gave me a new coat of wax. Ooh wasn't I the proud one again. But one day my Handyman, he got that Gold Fever, and next I knew here we were in the blistering hot Desert with a Sun so hot as to burn my paint off my tin, and boil the oil in my crank case. But my Handyman, he did take care of me although I could see time was taking her tole on him. Then one day when my Handyman was up in that hole eating dust, looking for the Gold he would never find, a couple of kids came along and boosted me. Ooh what a ride that was, we flew down the old Rail Road bed like greased lightning, till the turn they did not make. Rocks flew as my tires failed to find purchase amongst their grip, and the edge of the cliff rapidly inched near. No hope as we cleared the road held up by nothing but air. Then we hit, almost full upside down I was when we again found the ground, ouch did that ever hurt; then roll and roll, untill I thought the world was never going to stop spinning. Finally we came to rest at the bottom of the canyon, me all beaten and broken. There I lay, no one wanted me any more, even my Handyman only walked away shaking his head after he found me.

 
Others came and picked up the thieves, I think they were dead. And others would come by now and then, but they would just take a piece of me here and a piece of me there, then they were gone. It was late one evening just before sunset, I remember the day well, when another man came by. He sat down a bag beside his feet as he knelt down on one knee, looking down the length of some long shiny piece of steel. I felt this searing destructive heat rip a hole right through me before I even heard the explosion or saw the smoke leaving the end of the steel. Shooters I heard them called later, and many more would come to level their guns at me.

 
Rescued atlast as I awoke one morning to strong steel cables being wrapped around me, little did I know that they were only meant to rip me apart. They ripped my engine out of me, followed by my running gear and even my frame. My perfect running engine piled atop their pile of scrap only to be ground up into dog food cans, my last hope of anyone ever wanting me again gone and so horribly destroyed. Then they left me now but a smashed and broken empty hull.

 
It was one particular bright sunny afternoon when this grisly Mountainman came upon me, only something different, he didn't pull out a gun and start shooting me, he climbed down into my canyon only to begin taking pictures of me, Beautiful I even heard him call me. Me wrecked, torn and beaten, and here he is calling me Beautiful. Then he spoke to me, I'll be back, don't you worry. Finally I had hope again, there was someone in this world that still cared for me.

 
But years passed and I did not see him, only another scrapper came by to finish me off, and hope was gone. I was hooked as my Scrapper struggled to free my metal from the stony cliff side that held me tight, wedged up against a bolder, I could only hope they could not free me. A false hope I knew, but hope I did, when a tall man comes walking in out of the Sun, a Park Ranger he was, well dressed, and with a gun that wasn't pointed at me. Gentlemen, he proclaimed, you have to leave, this car belongs to a friend of mine. My hope again glowed as the Scrappers put away their deadly tools and left. I never knew who lived in that Castle in the shadow of my canyon, but I was glad to meat him, and glad to have him looking over my shoulder.

 
Almost a Decade past, my Mountainman never having returned when I hear the rumbling of a big truck, big enough to easily free the likes of me. More Scrappers I thought. Then an older man steps out of a well worn rig, would my Ranger be here to save me again? Then I see him, my Mountainman walking over the bluff of the mountain and climbing down to me, he now has a limp, ever so slight, but he looked happy to see me, and me him. The other old man tossed him down some chains and planking, as he began gently chaining me up, and ramping the cliff to save me. A few stops to move boulders later and I was finally climbing that fateful cliff I went over so many years ago.

 
Now I sit in my Mountainman's Outdoor Bodyshop as he massages my crippled body back into shape. I wander what will become of me, what will I look like, I can only be sure that I will be desirable once again. I wander what color will I be, or will I get many colors, Ooh I think I would like that. What will I get for a new engine, a Nailhead, I have heard him talk about, yet I have heard him talk about a Hemmi, I can only dream and wonder, not that I know what either of these are, but maybe the little Valiant in front of me will know, she says she's a 63 and been around Motorheads all her life. I see a twisted up frame from a 1922 Chevy sitting in front of me, is she to be mine. I had seen her scattered half across the valley from a crash much earlier then mine only a mile up the tracks. The Scrappers must not have found her frame over there hidden behind the brush, but she was my only company just up the canyon for almost half a century. She told me the Mountainman had picked up her parts, only like me she didn't see him for almost a decade later. Indeed it is good to see my neighbor at last, after so many years only shouting distance away. But she fared much worse then me, mangled, she defines the word. None the less it would be good to be together with her. To spend the rest of our lives together, umm that would be good. But all I can do is wait and see.

 
jb, yes I learned his name now, worked on me for a couple of days when he first brought me home, then nothing. Weeks pas and I am totally neglected, I know my body is pretty badly beaten, did he give up on me? Am I doomed? Have I waited all this time just to find my way to the scrap heap. Then it happens, the Scrappers do come, it's over. They start talking to jb as I can only stare at the crippled body of a much younger stationwagon already laying upside down on their trailer. I tried talking to her, but she was too consumed in grief of what was soon to become of her. I can't think of much worse then her fate, other then facing it with her, and not even having someone to talk to in the end. But then I begin to listen, instead of sulking in my own self pity. jb isn't scrapping me, no he is giving this scrapper a lecture about destroying the Legacy of the Desert in hauling off the Artful Relics that serve for such beautiful photography. They go back and forth as the Scrappers temper flares proclaiming what a public service he was doing, and eventually degrading to the point of suggesting maybe someone would drive by and shoot up jb's house. But my jb never stopped his lecture, nor lost his cool, and the scrapper eventually calmed his temper, even agreed to bring older cars by instead of scrapping them. Maybe I too should learn to have a little patients with jb, I think I am indeed in good hands.

 
Ohh, now this I did not expect. I had been seeing this girl around, Jasmine I think her name is. But this I did not expect, I have myself another Play Boy. Ok well he's older and the girl has this big behind, but she is cute. And, suddenly I am the total center of attention again as jb pulls out his camera and the girl begins taking her clothes off. Wow! Does he ever know how to make me feel special. Hammers Paint and Horse Power I expected, but... Wow!

 
Well now, if you would like to see a lot of pictures of me, and of course Jasmine, just follow this link, but be sure to check back, there is more to come, I'm sure!

 
Months pass and it seems jb has been pounding on my metal forever now, pounding day and night, and just when I think he is going to give up he comes back for more. He stretches my skin with these strong hydraulic rams, then works out more wrinkles, hammers out more body lines, wow, how much attention can one girl get? Then jb brings home a new toy, a Continental Frame Rack, and I'm the first to climb aboard. Here I sit, held high like a diamond in the rough as jb pulls the twists out of my body, squaring and straitening me anew.

 
Will the Surprises ever end? jb sure knows how to spoil a girl, every day now I wait ecstatically wondering what jb has in store for me next. First he hoists the rather exotic Differential up on the Rack behind me. Nothing like I had before, this machination has more parts than I think my old engine ever had, and it's just a drive axle. Boy have things changed in all the years I lay in waste down in that canyon. Jaguar IRS Ms Snooty FireBird exclaims in Envy, Independent Rear Suspension, and only the best Made. So much for old Ms Rust Bucket that doesn't deserve all of this attention. It's gotta be good if Ms Snooty envy's it.

 
Then as if my Jag IRS wasn't enough, jb clamps this piece of metal cut from a Delivery Van up fount. I remember talking to her, a very polite gal, very formal, They converted her to a Mobile Office I heard her say. And this piece of metal is cut out from where they gave her a big picture window. I thought jb was going to build me a new door from the sheet metal, only he eliminated my door and changed my body lines. Gone is my strait down hood line, as he replaced it with a smart looking Sargent Stripe. Boy didn't that make a change in my looks, sportier I'd say. And like that wasn't enough.jb began working my new side panel again, and when he again clamped her too me, Wow, this guy knows how to knock the shorts off a girl. I've got three dimensional raised flames, 3D Flames the whole length of my new side panel, a Hand Hammered Flame Job, talk about permanent. Me happy!