The preceding headline is probably not new information to many of you guys reading this. That's because, if I am known for anything, it's not my practicality. Let's begin by taking a look at my vehicle choices. First was the Valiant. While it might have started out a little more practical than it actually ended up, it was never really destined to be a legitimately practical vehicle. In its current iteration, the tunnel ram and roller cam kind of gets the impracticality point across.
Next, we have to consider the Dart Sport. Of any of the cars at the Bolig home, this one is probably the closest to having any semblance of practicality, but it too is living a "gray area." Let's face it, it's got three carburetors and a 4.10 gear. There is a five-speed that gives it some street manners, but really, how practical is it?
Next came the Superbee. I'm not even going to try and pull the wool over your eyes, practicality be damned with this one. The only reason to even have a car like that is, well, I wanted one. That one was so far away from practical that I ultimately had to let a new owner call it his. Don't worry, Bob was properly vetted. This introduction into the impracticality of the Bolig vehicles should give you a little insight into how impractical I really am. But at least when I jump in my daily driver, I can say that it's practical, right? Damn, missed that one by a mile.
Even with the price of gas what it is, I would have a hard time getting rid of my 2003 Ram. It's one of the vehicles that I own, that local guys expect to see me in every day, so maybe that's why I decided it might be time to freshen it up a little. The trusty parts hauler had roughly 150,000 miles on it, and if you know me, that's doing really well without a major breakdown. I am on my second transmission, but that wasn't the truck's fault, honest. Anyway, rebuilding the engine should have been an easy, straight-forward task. Tear it down, hopefully just re-ring it, and throw it back together. Again, this is me—what do you think really happened?
I began by making a call to the guys at Speedfactory. I hear you laughing already. "Did he really expect to build a stock engine at a place called Speedfactory?" Well, for one glimmering second, the thought crossed my mind, but we all know which of the many voices in my head is the loudest. OK, so we might have opened the cylinders a little bit, and maybe I shouldn't tell you about the longer stroke of the rotating assembly, but that stuff is normal for this day and age. In reality, those little tidbits of engine building shouldn't completely neglect the premise of practical. And normally it wouldn't, unless someone has the bright idea that adding a supercharger to a stroked Hemi could be considered practical. At least I can still haul parts with it.
So, my consistency is intact. I am apparently unable to build anything with any semblance of practicality. Even when it comes to the vehicle that I drive every day, I just can't leave well enough alone. Practical might be in my vocabulary, but it's a word I use when describing something—anything—not related to the Bolig family.