Second Chances

There are times in life when you are given a second chance. It doesn't happen often, and keeping your eyes open--and recognizing the opportunity--is crucial. But once you rediscover that magic, that reason that you're revisiting...it's a feeling like no other.

My first car, as mentioned many times before, was a 1984 Cougar GS with the V6. For all the world it was not the most outstanding car when I bought it. It was nicely optioned but rather pedestrian otherwise. What did stand out, throughout its life, was the gorgeous color: Light Cadet Blue Metallic Clearcoat, essentially a 1984-only color for the Cougar. It was the perfect showcase color to accentuate the lines and curves of the sumptuous new Cougar body, with a shimmer in strong sunlight that was unmatched. It soothed, it begged a second look, it defined the car--and ultimately, me, as a person.

Over the years I had done things to that car that were, well, considered radical for the time. I remember ordering the front end "LeBra" from the JC Penney catalog (and later, the matching mirror covers). I thought I was so cool with those on the car. Then I saved up and bought a ground effects kit, again, very radical for the time. My biggest mistake was choosing the wrong color for them, but that didn't stop people from turning heads. I remember buying the TRX rims...on purpose. And spending $180 per tire that lasted maybe 20,000 miles. And almost killing myself, several times over, when early snows came and I hadn't switched back to the winter tires. There ended up being a few "character dings" on that car because of those tires.

Mechanically I didn't do much...just maintained the motor and trans, and added a sway bar to the rear. That was it. I figured since the 3.8 V6 was suited only for daily driving and occasional highway status, there was no point in doing anything else to the car. Sometimes you have to take things at face value. Deep down in my heart, I knew that the car was special to me...but the reality was that it was a run-of-the-mill V6 car. To anyone on the street, it was simply a dressed-up daily driver commuter car. With style, of course.

But the color...oh, the color never stopped getting compliments. Even with some rust spots beginning to gather around the wheel wells and rocker panels, the color permeated. It attracted like no other hue at the time. My dad used to have a 1961 Corvette that had a one-year-only color called Jewel Blue. And to me, my '84's color paralleled the same spirit: a one-year color that grabs your attention like no other. Never did I hear, "That's an ugly color." It was a color that everybody just loved, without question.

As time went on, I can't say that the car began to bore me. It never did. But eventually the lack of power from the V6 began to strain my limited patience. I had planned to buy an HO motor from a Mustang, rewire the engine bay, and drop that bad boy in. My problem was, this was 1992 and nobody could give me the time of day concerning a computer-controlled engine swap of that magnitude. And because it was my daily driver, it's not like I could have done the swap in a weekend. This was my college commuter car. Therefore, lacking the time, knowledge and funds, I did what anyone else would do: find a V8 car. It didn't take long behind the wheel of my 1986 black 5.0 to understand what I'd been missing. The V6 car was instantly a thing of the past. I put it up for sale and within a month or two, it was sold to a co-worker's family. They loved that car as much as I did. I'd seen them driving it around for about a year afterward and then I never saw it again. I do not know what ever happened to it.

And right there, the story should have ended. After all, the V8 car was in the spotlight. I then found an '88 XR7, the '88 Sport T-Bird, the '88 V8 Blue Max, and of course, the convertible (after an 8-year hunt). I can honestly say that it's been fun to own so many V8 cars, to know that I could maintain them, push them, experiment on them, buy performance parts for them, and then--when necessary--sell them to someone that would do the same. The cars never lost any value in that respect. They were cars that were more "worthy" than the V6...at least, that was my thinking for many years.

Ironically, it was while the convertible was stripped down to bare metal in 2001 that I had an awakening of sorts. You have to understand that it took me about 5 years to save up enough money to have the convertible painted, mostly because of major medical bills. I was so focused upon saving the money that I really didn't spend much time thinking about how I wanted the convertible to look! I was just happy to jump that financial barrier. Now, with the car totally naked, the painter and I began to discuss the paint options. One thing I'd known from the start was that I wanted the top part to be the original Oxford White, but the bottom part to be painted in a silver hue. I narrowed the silver down to two shades, and after about a week of debating I finally settled on the color of my upper intake manifold, Opal Frost Metallic Clearcoat, which has a bluish quality in the shade. I added the little bounce to the rear quarter panel to give a more graphical feel to the paint scheme, and the curve mimicked the rear quarter window trim piece perfectly. Finally, there was balance to the color scheme, with just enough of each to never overpower. To my trained artist's eye, everything seemed correct.

But just then something flashed across my thoughts. Since the interior was going to be off-white, there were no rules to my color choices. White, silver, eggshell...all neutral colors that complement each other. But perhaps lacking a little punch. If I'm taking the time and spending the money, why be boring? I needed another accent color somewhere on the exterior. What color would make that transition without overwhelming?

Why, of course...I bet that can of extra paint I had from my old '84 would come in handy about now.

So we applied the vintage '84 Light Cadet Blue Metallic basecoat between the white and silver, running a parallel line to the silver, and wrapping around the taillights to end there. In basecoat, there was a noticeable jump between the silver and blue. But after the clearcoat was applied...well...things got subtle. VERY subtle. We had no idea that the blue and silver were so close in value under clear, and in certain lighting situations the blue virtually disappears into the silver. But in strong sunlight, the silver takes on a goldish shimmer and the blue becomes very strong, yet still in the same color range as the silver in shadows. It was what my old college art professor would call a "happy accident"--a seemingly random chance that these two hues would work together through fate. Mostly, though, I was just happy that I could pay a little tribute to my old '84 by creating a spot for its native color on my dream car.

The convertible owned the spotlight from the moment I drove it home. I was happy with the white. I was happy with the silver. But I was simply ecstatic about the blue. To me, that was the finishing touch that the car needed. Without that blue...I don't even know what I'd have done. It saved the paint scheme and thus the look of the car. The more I drove it, the more car shows and cruise-ins I attended, the more people really looked at the paint...the more I started to realize how much I missed that old '84. After all, it was always about the color of that car. Sure, it was a decent runner and a great daily driver, but what kept me coming back was that color.

A little bit of blue on the convertible turned into a search for the perfect light blue '84. Secretly, though...I didn't really publicize it too much, save for a one-line message in my bio here on the site. And apparently people took notice of that, because over the years I received quite a few leads for light blue '84 Cougars. Unfortunately nothing panned out; it was either in bad shape, or too far away, or too much money. I suppose that's what happens when you confine your car search to one particular color from one model year from one car line. In the meantime I poured more and more money into the convertible, refining it, pushing it, sculpting it into what it is today. But always in the back of my mind was the possibility of another '84. And I never gave up on it. Frustrating as it was.

Fast forward to June 2006. It wasn't a particularly warm or sunny month here in northeast Ohio but it nevertheless was June, which means we could put away the snow shovels with a fair amount of certainty. The convertible had been out for about a month or so, and I was getting around to some cruise-ins. Not a particularly interesting month, really.

Until I got the e-mail.

Here was a gentleman that found my site through a simple web search. He was looking to sell his car. His grandparents bought the car new, then sold it to him a few years ago. It had 106,000 miles and was in great shape. He was simply looking for a good home for the car, to someone that would appreciate it.

It was a Light Cadet Blue Metallic Clearcoat 1984 Cougar GS with the V6.

And it was a mere 3 hours from home.

So I replied: "Send me your phone number N-O-W." He did, we chatted, he seemed honest and straightforward. The only problems: some small rust spots (why, of course) and an overheating problem that rendered the car undriveable. But he tempted me further by saying the the interior was mint and only needed a few small things. Now I've heard this before from people, only to discover that their version of "in good shape" wasn't in the same neighborhood as my perception of the same. Still...a short 3-hour drive would put all my concerns to rest. We made arrangements and I took my two friends Shawn and Kevin along, with the hopes that they may see something that I overlook.

It took only about 2 minutes for me to realize that this was the one I was waiting for. The car was just unbelievably preserved, and the interior was indeed nearly perfect...it even smelled good. But I had to keep the glee hidden because there were bigger concerns. We did determine that the overheating problem was due to the typical 3.8 V6 head gasket failure. That hurt, because I wanted to drive it, and it also made for a technical hurdle to get it home. I non-chalantly told the gentleman that this was an inspection-only visit and that I didn't want to get his hopes up. But he said, "Oh, that's alright. It will be here waiting for you whenever you're ready."

On the way home, Shawn and Kevin and I figured out a game plan. The most unfortunate thing was that June and July are my busiest months of the year because I have the shadow of plans for Cat Jam hanging over me, plus getting the car ready for the show, plus getting the house ready for visitors, plus a last-minute plumbing project, plus other things in life. So to throw this car into the mix, I had to really focus. And to be honest, I wasn't focusing that well. But Shawn and Kevin were, thankfully. At that point I think they were more excited than I was.

A few weeks went by, with the car heavy on my thoughts throughout. Yes, I wanted it...that was never the issue. I had a few logistical problems--mostly, space limitations--for the car that, with the help of my family, I essentially solved for the time being. It would have a garage. Shawn and I figured we'd rent a tow dolly from U-Haul and hook that to the back of my Mountaineer for the ride home. The proverbial pieces were starting to fall into place. So I figured it was time to let the owner know. I called and told him my ideas. The first thing he said to me? "I didn't even put an ad in the paper for it. Figured there was no use advertising it since it was going to be yours. I knew you were coming back for it." At this point I'm figuring that I exude Essence of Cougar™ from my pores. How in the hell did he perceive all of this? Am I that easy to read, or did he pick up on something from me that I don't know about? Nevertheless, we finalized the plans. Shawn and I made the trip down, picked up the dolly, got the car on, everything hooked up and ready to go. The gentleman took a last look at the car and said, "I know it's in good hands. Keep me updated." I liked that. He placed all of his trust into my hands knowing that he wouldn't be let down. How often do you get that from a car's previous owner?

With the car home, I immediately washed and waxed it to get a good look at the body. The sun was setting on that warm early-July Saturday, and through the neatly-planted row of pine trees that line my driveway, the waning yellow sunlight kissed that blue paint in just that right way, the way I always remembered it. And I knew that, indeed, I absolutely positively nailed my second chance. I don't know how long I was standing there giggling like a schoolgirl before my parents came over to get a good look at it. They were pretty much dumbfounded. Even my jaded brother was taken aback, saying, "It's just like stepping back to 1988 again!"

And indeed, he is correct. This time, though, no mods to the body. In fact, everything will eventually get refinished or replaced with NOS parts. It will appear as a stock car, inside and out. Yes, it is in that good of condition to begin with. And since the convertible will never be perfect due to its heavily modified structure and grafted-on top assembly, here is a car that I can finally be particular about. I assure everyone that it will always be perfect. Back 20 years ago, it was all about de-chroming and modifying and smoothing out things. This time around, though, I've learned to love the car for what it is. It is in that imperfection that it is perfect. For me, anyway.

I'm even keeping the 3.8 V6 under the hood. The problem ended up being cracked cylinder heads; after a new set of heads, new gaskets and some TLC, it's back to running in tip-top shape. So far so good.

I have now accepted the fact that the '84 and the convertible are two sides of me, each distinctly strong, but inexorably intertwined. There is no more denial. What is for one, can be for the other, to a certain point. Finding that point...that's what's taken me 20 years. But now I understand. And it is that understanding that makes this second chance so decadent. On the drive home with the car, I told Shawn, "You've known me for over 10 years. And you thought you really knew me. NOW you really know me." And I think he's beginning to understand too.

I didn't think it was possible for a single car to affect someone so deeply. But the perfect car, the perfect color, the right person, the right time...that is what made me believe in fate in the first place. And that car has indeed shaped me in ways that I didn't think was possible. I perceive things much better because of the principles I learned from it. Really, this site could never have existed had it not been for that car. You wouldn't be reading these words, you wouldn't have ever met me, and life would blissfully go on. Except that there would be this hole where love for the Cougar would normally go. Fortunately we don't have to play the "what if" game now. That is how fate works its way into our lives.

If you ever get a second chance at something, whether it be a car or love or anything else, may I highly suggest that you jump at that chance. Fate can only drop things in your lap so many times during the course of your life. Live with no regrets.

And remember that the next time you see me smiling and giggling.

(NOTE: You can see more of the car here.)

Until next time,

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