Ryan’s submit yesterday about the 1955-56 Ford truck nameplates reminded me of the old ’56 Ford F100 I owned effectively above 20 several years back. It was practically nothing specific or exceptional- A little rear window, straight 6, 3-on-the-tree, small bed in a awful metallic brown. Her nickname was ‘Uncle Jesse’, immediately after the outdated man Jesse Duke’s rig on a certain Television set present, even nevertheless my Ford looked very little like his. On a sunny day in the park at Crusin’ Paso Robles in 1999, some talented kid who could not have been more than 12 or 13 yrs outdated offered to lay out flames on the entrance fender with masking tape, just for kicks (People spontaneous and rad issues utilised to happen at Paso back again then, but I digress). The tape styles came out so excellent that I had the younger male mask out flame licks all the way down each fender of the truck and proceeded to hand him all the pocket cash I had. Back residence, a buddy of mine hand-striped the line get the job done out with 1 Shot, pinstriped the taillights, and threw a Flying Eyeball on the back again, just for kicks. The ol’ F100 was even now poop brown, but at least the black flames and white striping manufactured it appear midway great.
A extremely shorter even though afterwards, I fulfilled the female who would become my spouse. Correct in advance of our 1st actual day, I recognized the truck had no seatbelts so I swiftly ordered some JC Whitney ‘aircraft’ belts in poop beige and expended the night prior to our rendezvous installing them. We drove the F100 up to Petaluma in the rain, properly buckled in, wipers going side to aspect to the conquer of the new music enjoying the cab, just laughing and acquiring the greatest time at any time. Many thanks Uncle Jesse.