My own heroin Oct 25, 2005
We all need something to reduce stress. Some of us work out. Some play sports. Some drink beer. And some go to extremes like hard drugs such as heroin.
Margie’s dad died recently and that combined with the all usual crap middle aged life brings have got us both pretty uptight. She has her way of dealing with stress. I have mine.
My way is to dive into another project. When we were at our lowest point in the late eighties, nearly out of business, with a motorhome broken down in Wyoming and no way to afford to bring it home, I solved the problem by tearing apart the house and remodeling the kitchen.
This time, the Sunbeam Tiger is my heroin. Late at night out in the shop with the Smithereens blaring through my yard sale stereo, I tore into the Tiger last week. Total relaxation despite the rusted bolts, butchered wiring harness. Pulling up the carpets and seeing that this fourty year old car stil has floors brings a new rush. Being able to totally dismantle an automobile in about a dozen hours is serious fun and relaxation for me.
Twisted yes, but hey, whatever gets you through the night. Other than the zombie like state it puts me in the next day, I feel that my habit does little harm. I learn. I study. I really like restoring cars.
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