I’d like to make my point by way of a fable. Picture a hot July, 1965 evening in Lower Bucks County, PA. Dave, an 18-year old gearhead, sets out to cruise the circuit and see if he can find some action. He winds up at Hot Shoppes, a carhop restaurant, in Abington frequented by other car-crazed adolescents where he parks and walks over to a group of guys standing around talking. Challenge for dominance is almost palpable and the night air is heavy with the smell of burnt rubber, high-octane gas, and testosterone. North: “Yo Dave, haven’t seen you in a while; new wheels?” Dave: “Yeah, North, I got rid of the ’58. Those wedgeheads are dogs.” * Irat : “ ’56 two door postie; great body to build into a street machine.” ** Dave: “Yeah, the engine was shot and I got a deal on the body.” North: “What are you running, sounds like you got a ‘cam in it?” Dave: “I swapped the 265 for a 327 and, yeah, it’s got a cam. It’s also got an AFB on an Edelbrock manifold, Hurst mystery shifter, a 411 posi rear and some other nice goodies.” Irat: “Sits up awful high, don’t it.” Dave: “Yeah, I go for weight transfer. It’s got station wagon springs and 90-10 shocks on the front and extra leaves in the rear. No top end but it’ll really fly off the line and that’s what its all about, right?” Dave leaves a little past eleven to make the midnight shift at Fairless Steel in Morrisville where he’s employed as a steelworker. While exiting the lot a kandiapple red ’58 Impala pulls alongside. The driver, a guy name of Simon, leans over and issues a challenge. “You’re wrong man, and I’m going to make you choke on your words.” Gradually it dawns on Dave that Simon resents his comment about wedgeheads and he’s being chosen.*** Indignant with adolescent rage Dave responds, “Tomorrow night. Decatur Road at eight.” Pan forward to the present. Grow up, Simon, and quit sniping. Is your skin so thin you read my ideas as a personal affront? People ask questions for information and I post so that others might benefit from my experience. You’re gunning for me and I don’t do grudge matches. I gave up that adolescent stuff long ago. This board is about providing helpful information not seeing who can turn the fastest quarter. Is it going to be necessary to pass advice past the PC police and are you the police commissioner? You chose Jack Tracey, you chose Howard Rogers, and I don’t know just whom all you’ve chosen but I’m declining the bait. Michelle is perfectly capable of evaluating information I present on her own. North had a comment and he had the intellectual honesty to point it directly to me. Choose someone else; I don’t care to waste the time and energy. * 348 cubic inch engine introduced by Chevrolet in passenger cars in 1958. The forerunner of the legendary 409 with wedge shaped heads that earned the engine the nickname of wedgehead or wedgie. ** 1956 Chevrolet two-door sedan; a favored platform for building a street legal hot rod. Much like Bob Falfa’s 1955 Chevrolet in American Graffiti. *** American 1960s slang to challenge someone to a drag race. **** For those who might recognize the backdrop, I borrowed the John Milner/Bob Falfa Paradise Road scene from American Graffiti for artistic license. Thank you Misters LeMat, Ford and Lucas. I never had a wedgehead but the ’56 did exist, it did go like a bat out of Hell, and I did engage in street racing when I was young, very foolish, and allowed myself to be goaded into nonsense.