kiffie

On Friday, me and Voodoo made the long trip home to LA. Voodoo ran wonderfully and even put up with the horrible traffic on the 5 (caused by a horrendous accident on another freeway). We got in about 10am and, since I had time, I grabbed my mom and we all went down to BCE to talk to our old mechie's wife.

Mechie's wife wasn't there when we arrived, so we waited around, poked at some of the parts for sale, and stood gaping in horror at another customer's car. It had been, at one time, a fairly nice example of a 1968 hardtop Ghia. It clearly hadn't been so for a long while, but I'm guessing that, even up until a few days ago, it had probably still gotten complements (even if they were of the, "She'll make a good project car!" variety).

Engine fires are terrible things. Especially on a rear-engined vehicle, where you generally don't notice the smoke until it's too late. The Ghia had caught fire and burned. Everything from the haunches back was a total loss, and even the front tires had managed to melt down to the steel belting from the heat. The battery, though still in place, looked like a small bundle of newspaper. Whatever aluminum had been in the engine had formed a solid puddle at the lip of the compartment. I stuck my head inside to get a closer look at the air filter/oil cooler and was struck with the most hideous smell. It was the same smell that Voodoo had when her dash set on fire, only of such a magnitude it almost made me hurl. And this car had been sitting with its engine open for more than a day!

I don't know what actually caused the fire. Even the owner didn't seem to know. But whatever caused it, the fire department had refused to put it out. Typical. Magnesium, you know. So the Ghia had burned and the owner had to deal with the fact that her car was probably never going to run again. Well, no, I take that back. She still wanted it fixed. How realistic that will turn out to be, I don't know. But she was evidently adamant that her car be repaired.

Lady, good luck to you. But if I saw Voodoo in that condition, I would likely arrange for a burial and move on. I will be absolutely astounded if that little Ghia ever vrums again.