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Oh &%*& now what? I went and did it again. She’s mine. In all her unmoving, mouse-crap infested, missing wiring and rusted Glory. She is mine.

Woke up at 4:18 Friday morning, May 20th 2016 with an almost overwhelming sense of “pre” buyer’s remorse. Couldn’t think of anything else. Today was the day I was going to hand over a significant chunk of change (more than I’ve ever spent on the purchase of an old jalopy in fact (even ones that I could drive home)) to take home a heavily surface-rusted 70-year old relic that my Better Half would undoubtedly not share my same enthusiasm of. I’d seen it in person roughly 3 weeks prior and today would be the day the paperwork-for-cash swap would make her officially mine. Then what was I going to do? It clearly didn’t run. Needs wiring. Brakes. Carpet. Fuel cell cleaned out. And that’s just what I can recall. Like anything else there will be a ton of the things I didn’t plan for.

But I met Bruce at 5pm at the 99 Restaurant in Lynnfield, MA. I wanted to take the old FLH Harley I have been building/riding/fixing but 2 days earlier the chain had slipped off and I got to push it a mile home. I’d since replaced the chain but really didn’t have enough time to check the alignment of it. I didn’t want to be late or worse – break down and cause Bruce and his girlfriend undo stress since they were already meeting me more than halfway to go over paperwork. Hopped in the truck and headed up. Bruce was already there so I didn’t have time to sit at the bar and possibly drink myself sane.

We exchanged the cash for the newly acquired New Hampshire plates and registration along with the original owner’s manual and a laminated Bill of Sales sheet from 1948! We shook hands and I made 2 promises: I would do my best to honor the car, and to offer him first right of refusal if I ever decide to sell it. I intend on following through with each of those.

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