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Since 1990, I have been trying to restore a 1964 Corvair Monza Coupe.
I bought it for $250 from a stranger and then dumped most of my meager earnings into it while I was still working at Purdue.
While living in a small space I called "The Headphone Room" ( it measured 4'x10' with a sloping ceiling and I surrounded my mattress on the floor with my absurdely expensive Quad Electrostatic Loudspeakers ) I worked on the Corvair.
The engine was professionally rebuilt, but I tackled the bodywork myself. I sandblasted everything. I learned how to handle an Oxy/Acetelene torch. I painted it with very toxic paints. I have probably given myself silicosis.
I spent a lot of money, but then I ran out of steam.
I started refering to it as "sculpture".
I moved to California, and the company that hired me unwittingly helped ship the Corvair out. It sat in yet another garage for a few months until I found a "professional" to finish the restoration.
It took the guy nearly 3 years to just rebuild the engine (again) and get it roadworthy enough for me to drive it 150 miles (at 45 MPH) to the garage it is now sitting in.
Part of me is ashamed, part of me just wants the thing to go away.
'Round these parts, you can buy a Corvair in better shape than a restored Midwestern car - right off the street!
I can't believe you have quad electrostatics!
My fantasy posession