I am totally in synch what you are saying here, GAS455 (and Nick and others)! Even during this restoration of the project I am working on - a labor of love - there have been times when I have thought that maybe I should have started out with something that needed a little less work. It can be scary when you remove the interior, nose, doors and engine and realize you are past the point of no return in that your "vision" of how this car will look when finished....well it looks like even less of a real car than when it arrived. But then I think about it some more, I realize that who I am is someone who likes to tinker. And then I think about the small victories along the way. Right now I am getting ready to cut off rusty metal on the front fenders, and weld in patch panels and re-install the front end sheet metal. It is a small victory as was the re-installation of the restored doors. But it is one more piece of the GTO that I have personally been through, repaired and made it roadworthy (or show worthy) "the right way". I know that once the fenders are repaired, I can re-assemble the nose and then I will have something that begins to resemble a real car again. And then I realize that step by step, the Legend is getting reborn.
There are, I am sure, people who can afford to buy a completely restored '69 Judge for some very serious dollars that needs nothing but to turn the key and enjoy. I am not one of those fortunate few. What I am - and a lot of my friends are - are the old school die-hard hobbyists who realize the value of a properly done GTO is emotional gut reaction not financial, and have an intense satisfaction realizing that each piece of their ride is something they personally have handled, worked on, fixed and then reassembled.
Seems like it is contagious. In a few weeks, we will have the start of the swap meet season (Englishtown NJ). And like every year since they were born my kids will go to sleep the night before in their clothing because their nutty old man gets on the road at 5:30am and they don't want to miss the morning french toast sticks, the haggling over the right part at the right price, or coming home with more memories of stuff needed to bring her back to bone stock.
Onward, man.
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