Disclaimer:
Lengthy and possibly over-descriptive material is contained here within. Cliff notes are available at the end of the story for the less inclined to reading.
Intro:
The alarm clock is buzzing, it’s 5:30am and a typical Tuesday morning. Porsche my pet Yorkshire Terrier is jumping on my head and as usual anxious to start the day. I stumble out of bed and head to the bathroom. “Give me a minute and we’ll go outside Porsche” I mumble to her as she eagerly awaits her morning walk. I take care of business myself first and head downstairs with Porsche trotting close behind. I put on her harness and head out the door as she tugs on the leash ahead of me with what seems lime more force than what you would expect out of a 7-lb. pooch.
The air is cool and a bit brisker than I had planned for as I only have on my PJ bottoms and a T-Shirt. I contemplate going back in to grab a sweatshirt but Porsche seems to think I don’t need it as she tugs away at the leash away from the house. “Ehhh I’ll tough it out” I tell myself and continue on. We do our usual up the street and to the corner routine and turn around. She has “taken care of business” on my neighbor’s front lawn and I then realize I had forgotten to grab a baggie before heading out. Oops! Time for us to make a quick get away and head back home.
We head back down my street, Porsche strutting at a pace that would dictate she’s a bit lighter on her feet. Judging by what I just witnessed I would have to say that’s definitely the case. She decides to make a pit stop at the end of my driveway and sniff the front lawn. I don’t know why but she seems to be enjoying herself so I take the time to stare at my home. It’s a pretty home (obviously a biased opinion on my part). A large majestic Dutch Colonial that was built in 1890. The blueish/greenish color seems to accentuate the barn like roof lines that make it uniquely “New England”. I had been doing some work the night before on the far side of the house and realized I had forgotten to put my ladder away. “Come on Porsche” I call out to her tugging on the leash so we can head back inside.
I head back inside to take care of the rest of the “morning routine” that is my life Monday through Friday. “I wonder what the weather is going to be like?” I think to myself. A quick look at the paper tells me warm with a slight chance of passing showers. Well that rules out taking the Honda as I hate driving it in the rain for many reasons the least of which is the car has no wipers. Well it looks like it’ll be the daily (Nissan Pathfinder) again today even though I’ve been trying to drive it a bit less b/c of the gas prices.
I head out the door after collecting my things and remember that I still have to put the ladder away. Shoot! I quickly grab the ladder and scurry to the garage to put it away. Walking through the garage door it’s apparent as to why I had gotten sidetracked didn’t put everything away. Mondays are “Beer and Dart Night” at the SIRIUS household. OK, it’s just me and my cousin in my garage throwing darts and drinking beer but you get the idea. I look over and still scattered on the T-Roofs of my Buick is about a dozen empties, a pizza box, and the charred ashes of our “herbal supplements”. Hmmm, I can’t leave my garage looking this way so I clean up. Suddenly it clicks, screw it I’m taking the Buick to work today. “WOOHOO!” I say out loud channeling Homer Simpson.
Color Commentary:
For those not in the know, the Buick is my ’87 Grand National. We’re all “car guys” here so I have to assume everyone knows what it is. She’s a tad dusty from sitting in the garage so after a few quick passes with the car duster I’m good to go. I hop in and fire her up. It’s been a 2 year process so far with this car to get her where she is today and I’m finally starting to reap the benefits. She idles smoothly breathing out through the Hooker exhaust that is sans a catalytic converter with a mellow burble. I take a quick glance at the boost gauge and my Scanmaster and scroll through the readings. Nothing raises any concerns so I put it in “D” and ease on out.
I roll down the window halfway and turn up the radio a tad. Cinderalla’s Greatest Hits is still in the CD player from last August. I have a rule where for the most part it’s “Hair Metal” in the Buick. Kinda fitting and I like that the soundtrack is from the same era as the car. It feels good to be driving the car and I think to myself how long I lusted for a Grand National (15 years in case you wanted to know) before finally owning one. I scroll through the disc and find “Shake Me” and turn it up a tad. Exiting my street I get on it just a little and the school kids waiting at the bus stop seem under whelmed by the 20 year old force-fed domestic. LOL, oh well. I continue on with my morning commute none the less.
My drive to work is for the most part usually a pleasant one, mostly a series of back roads before a quick jump on the highway for 2 miles before taking the exit. I’ve driven this route so many times I swear the car could steer itself. Today however I’m stuck behind a school bus. I have no one to blame but myself as my last minute garage cleanup and vehicle switcharoo has me running late. As the bus makes for what seems it’s 153rd stop in front of me I notice that there’s a dark green 4th gen Camaro waiting it’s turn to get out from a side street. Judging from the “Z28” badges and alloys it’s a safe bet this is truly a V8 car and not some poseur. I wave the young man in as he was already looking at me. I like to think that he knows what the car is and what it’s capable of but as I know all too well a lot of guys his age think it’s a Monte Carlo SS. He gives me the quick “thank you” hand gesture and pulls in front. The dual exhaust poking out the back only further proves to me that it’s a real Z28.
The Setup:
I’m not going to lie. I immediately start to think of scenarios where I am going to engage this young lad in a contest of speed. However, I’m not going to do something stupid to push the issue. I notice he keeps checking his rear view as we putter along behind the big yellow adolescent transport vehicle. Maybe he noticed the boost gauge on the A-pillar and that gave it way, or maybe he really knows what a Grand National is, or maybe I’m just thinking about it too much? Never the less I continue on enjoying some of my 80’s era rock as the bells toll on “Nobody’s Fool” no doubt a favorite of mine.
As I had expected the bus finally makes a right turn onto a side street and finally we can get a move on. I half expected the Z28 to follow suit and take a right toward the school but he didn’t. Now my brain is working overtime and I come to the realization that up the road there are two scenarios that can unfold. One is that he will take a left onto the highway as I would be if I were in the lead or he could continue on to a set of lights just beyond the turnoff that would put us side by side if the circumstances are right. I wait and see what he does and let the scenario unfold in front of me. If he doesn’t turnoff I’ll follow him to the lights and just take the backroad to work which I have done many times before. If he gets on the highway then so will I and I’ll just save the gas for another day as I don’t do roll races.
A big grin stretches across my face as he goes on by the turnoff to the highway and the grin almost immediately turns into giddiness as the realization sets in that we’re going to catch the light together. I finally get my first chance to put the car through it’s paces following the last round of upgrades. He comes to a slow stop in the right lane and I go ahead and pull up next to him to his left. Immediately the fresh faced Camaro owner does a once over and offers up a quick grin. I do the same. We both know what we’re here for and both turn our respective attentions to the matter at hand and focus on the light.
The Kill:
Before we get down to business I’ll give you the obligatory mod list.
Me: See sig
Him: Z28 with unknown (if any) mods.
The notoriously long light feels even longer as my nervous anxiousness sets in. I glance in my rear view to make sure we have no unwanted company. I take a quick peek at the boost gauge and switch over my Scanmaster to the tach readout. All systems go I think to myself as I make a last second adjustment to the floor mat and hit the mute button on Tom Keiffer belting out Gypsy Road.
With my left foot I hold the brake in as I begin to build the boost against the converter. I get her to the verge where the tires want to break loose and hold it there. The faint smell of expelled exhaust fames starts to waft into the car as my left leg starts to twitch nervously as is normally the case when I’m doing something stupid and illegal.
We get green and I nail it. The rear, way too narrow Cooper Cobras explode into a useless scramble for traction. I can smell the burned rubber as the car starts to get squirrelly while stay in it and not let off waiting for the tires to hook. Finally I let off just enough as to where the car has some semblance of straight forward motion. Much to my surprise it seems that my opponent hadn’t done much to take advantage of my traction handicap and had a nose on me. However his lead would be short lived as the turbo was now on full boost the gap was quickly closed and I begin to put about a car length on him by the time I hit 2nd gear. The violent gear change causing the radio bezel to launch itself out of the dash and clank around on my bare metal floors (a common occurrence whenever I flog the car hard as it’s missing 3 of the 4 clips used to hold it in place). By the time I got to the top of 2nd it was blatantly obvious that there was not going to be any catching up for Junior and the only thing he was going to see was the squinty slender taillights of my Regal. At that point I eased off and was comfortable with the 3 car gap I had put on him. I continued on and gave him a “thumbsup” in the mirror for his efforts but today the bragging rights are mine.
Cliffs:
Automatic 6-cylinder Buick Regal beats Z28 Camaro.
Lengthy and possibly over-descriptive material is contained here within. Cliff notes are available at the end of the story for the less inclined to reading.
Intro:
The alarm clock is buzzing, it’s 5:30am and a typical Tuesday morning. Porsche my pet Yorkshire Terrier is jumping on my head and as usual anxious to start the day. I stumble out of bed and head to the bathroom. “Give me a minute and we’ll go outside Porsche” I mumble to her as she eagerly awaits her morning walk. I take care of business myself first and head downstairs with Porsche trotting close behind. I put on her harness and head out the door as she tugs on the leash ahead of me with what seems lime more force than what you would expect out of a 7-lb. pooch.
The air is cool and a bit brisker than I had planned for as I only have on my PJ bottoms and a T-Shirt. I contemplate going back in to grab a sweatshirt but Porsche seems to think I don’t need it as she tugs away at the leash away from the house. “Ehhh I’ll tough it out” I tell myself and continue on. We do our usual up the street and to the corner routine and turn around. She has “taken care of business” on my neighbor’s front lawn and I then realize I had forgotten to grab a baggie before heading out. Oops! Time for us to make a quick get away and head back home.
We head back down my street, Porsche strutting at a pace that would dictate she’s a bit lighter on her feet. Judging by what I just witnessed I would have to say that’s definitely the case. She decides to make a pit stop at the end of my driveway and sniff the front lawn. I don’t know why but she seems to be enjoying herself so I take the time to stare at my home. It’s a pretty home (obviously a biased opinion on my part). A large majestic Dutch Colonial that was built in 1890. The blueish/greenish color seems to accentuate the barn like roof lines that make it uniquely “New England”. I had been doing some work the night before on the far side of the house and realized I had forgotten to put my ladder away. “Come on Porsche” I call out to her tugging on the leash so we can head back inside.
I head back inside to take care of the rest of the “morning routine” that is my life Monday through Friday. “I wonder what the weather is going to be like?” I think to myself. A quick look at the paper tells me warm with a slight chance of passing showers. Well that rules out taking the Honda as I hate driving it in the rain for many reasons the least of which is the car has no wipers. Well it looks like it’ll be the daily (Nissan Pathfinder) again today even though I’ve been trying to drive it a bit less b/c of the gas prices.
I head out the door after collecting my things and remember that I still have to put the ladder away. Shoot! I quickly grab the ladder and scurry to the garage to put it away. Walking through the garage door it’s apparent as to why I had gotten sidetracked didn’t put everything away. Mondays are “Beer and Dart Night” at the SIRIUS household. OK, it’s just me and my cousin in my garage throwing darts and drinking beer but you get the idea. I look over and still scattered on the T-Roofs of my Buick is about a dozen empties, a pizza box, and the charred ashes of our “herbal supplements”. Hmmm, I can’t leave my garage looking this way so I clean up. Suddenly it clicks, screw it I’m taking the Buick to work today. “WOOHOO!” I say out loud channeling Homer Simpson.
Color Commentary:
For those not in the know, the Buick is my ’87 Grand National. We’re all “car guys” here so I have to assume everyone knows what it is. She’s a tad dusty from sitting in the garage so after a few quick passes with the car duster I’m good to go. I hop in and fire her up. It’s been a 2 year process so far with this car to get her where she is today and I’m finally starting to reap the benefits. She idles smoothly breathing out through the Hooker exhaust that is sans a catalytic converter with a mellow burble. I take a quick glance at the boost gauge and my Scanmaster and scroll through the readings. Nothing raises any concerns so I put it in “D” and ease on out.
I roll down the window halfway and turn up the radio a tad. Cinderalla’s Greatest Hits is still in the CD player from last August. I have a rule where for the most part it’s “Hair Metal” in the Buick. Kinda fitting and I like that the soundtrack is from the same era as the car. It feels good to be driving the car and I think to myself how long I lusted for a Grand National (15 years in case you wanted to know) before finally owning one. I scroll through the disc and find “Shake Me” and turn it up a tad. Exiting my street I get on it just a little and the school kids waiting at the bus stop seem under whelmed by the 20 year old force-fed domestic. LOL, oh well. I continue on with my morning commute none the less.
My drive to work is for the most part usually a pleasant one, mostly a series of back roads before a quick jump on the highway for 2 miles before taking the exit. I’ve driven this route so many times I swear the car could steer itself. Today however I’m stuck behind a school bus. I have no one to blame but myself as my last minute garage cleanup and vehicle switcharoo has me running late. As the bus makes for what seems it’s 153rd stop in front of me I notice that there’s a dark green 4th gen Camaro waiting it’s turn to get out from a side street. Judging from the “Z28” badges and alloys it’s a safe bet this is truly a V8 car and not some poseur. I wave the young man in as he was already looking at me. I like to think that he knows what the car is and what it’s capable of but as I know all too well a lot of guys his age think it’s a Monte Carlo SS. He gives me the quick “thank you” hand gesture and pulls in front. The dual exhaust poking out the back only further proves to me that it’s a real Z28.
The Setup:
I’m not going to lie. I immediately start to think of scenarios where I am going to engage this young lad in a contest of speed. However, I’m not going to do something stupid to push the issue. I notice he keeps checking his rear view as we putter along behind the big yellow adolescent transport vehicle. Maybe he noticed the boost gauge on the A-pillar and that gave it way, or maybe he really knows what a Grand National is, or maybe I’m just thinking about it too much? Never the less I continue on enjoying some of my 80’s era rock as the bells toll on “Nobody’s Fool” no doubt a favorite of mine.
As I had expected the bus finally makes a right turn onto a side street and finally we can get a move on. I half expected the Z28 to follow suit and take a right toward the school but he didn’t. Now my brain is working overtime and I come to the realization that up the road there are two scenarios that can unfold. One is that he will take a left onto the highway as I would be if I were in the lead or he could continue on to a set of lights just beyond the turnoff that would put us side by side if the circumstances are right. I wait and see what he does and let the scenario unfold in front of me. If he doesn’t turnoff I’ll follow him to the lights and just take the backroad to work which I have done many times before. If he gets on the highway then so will I and I’ll just save the gas for another day as I don’t do roll races.
A big grin stretches across my face as he goes on by the turnoff to the highway and the grin almost immediately turns into giddiness as the realization sets in that we’re going to catch the light together. I finally get my first chance to put the car through it’s paces following the last round of upgrades. He comes to a slow stop in the right lane and I go ahead and pull up next to him to his left. Immediately the fresh faced Camaro owner does a once over and offers up a quick grin. I do the same. We both know what we’re here for and both turn our respective attentions to the matter at hand and focus on the light.
The Kill:
Before we get down to business I’ll give you the obligatory mod list.
Me: See sig
Him: Z28 with unknown (if any) mods.
The notoriously long light feels even longer as my nervous anxiousness sets in. I glance in my rear view to make sure we have no unwanted company. I take a quick peek at the boost gauge and switch over my Scanmaster to the tach readout. All systems go I think to myself as I make a last second adjustment to the floor mat and hit the mute button on Tom Keiffer belting out Gypsy Road.
With my left foot I hold the brake in as I begin to build the boost against the converter. I get her to the verge where the tires want to break loose and hold it there. The faint smell of expelled exhaust fames starts to waft into the car as my left leg starts to twitch nervously as is normally the case when I’m doing something stupid and illegal.
We get green and I nail it. The rear, way too narrow Cooper Cobras explode into a useless scramble for traction. I can smell the burned rubber as the car starts to get squirrelly while stay in it and not let off waiting for the tires to hook. Finally I let off just enough as to where the car has some semblance of straight forward motion. Much to my surprise it seems that my opponent hadn’t done much to take advantage of my traction handicap and had a nose on me. However his lead would be short lived as the turbo was now on full boost the gap was quickly closed and I begin to put about a car length on him by the time I hit 2nd gear. The violent gear change causing the radio bezel to launch itself out of the dash and clank around on my bare metal floors (a common occurrence whenever I flog the car hard as it’s missing 3 of the 4 clips used to hold it in place). By the time I got to the top of 2nd it was blatantly obvious that there was not going to be any catching up for Junior and the only thing he was going to see was the squinty slender taillights of my Regal. At that point I eased off and was comfortable with the 3 car gap I had put on him. I continued on and gave him a “thumbsup” in the mirror for his efforts but today the bragging rights are mine.
Cliffs:
Automatic 6-cylinder Buick Regal beats Z28 Camaro.
