There’s something to be said for being broke and simply figuring out how to make things work.
When the kids were young — and expensive — Shawn and I didn’t have piles of money to throw at our automotive hobbies. What we did have was a driveway, some tools, stubbornness and a willingness to try things we probably had no business attempting.
My best example was the “Dinted Rust Bucket,” a name lovingly coined by my son. She was a rusty old Grand Am GT that I stripped apart in the driveway, fitted with a fiberglass body kit and slowly learned how to mould myself. With Shawn’s patience, it probably would have gone straight from fiberglass to paint. Unfortunately, I have never possessed the patience required for endless stages of sanding.
So I painted it right there in the gravel driveway, with Shawn standing behind me holding up a giant piece of cardboard to block the wind. I used a sparkly rocker guard finish, friends added a pink stripe, and I painted the dash to match. It wasn’t expensive, professionally built or remotely perfect — but it was mine, and I was ridiculously proud of what we had created on a tiny budget.
The Dinted Rust Bucket eventually died a hero’s death while trying to get Caleb to Ottawa for his birthday during an ice storm. He still laughs telling the story of our very slow descent into the ditch — and the fact that, naturally, I took his picture while we waited for the tow truck.
Then there was Shawn’s S10, which he had owned since new. As it started needing repairs and upgrades, we tackled those ourselves too: bodywork, hood changes, fabrication and whatever else we convinced ourselves we could handle in the driveway or garage. When we needed something beyond our equipment, my stepfather Dave could bend steel for us and help turn another questionable idea into something usable.
Looking back now, the cars themselves were only part of it. What I miss most is that feeling of standing in the driveway, covered in dust or paint, figuring things out together and turning whatever resources we had into something we were proud to drive.
