I Read Too Much

There is just something about old cars.  I'm not talking about the one I drive, which being a 2002 would be considered old, I'm talking those cars that were made before me, my mom, and in some cases my grandma.  These cars are classics.  I may not seem the type to get excited about old cars, but I do.  I can appreciate the passion that went into the design, the tastefully selected color schemes, the artistry of the details, the engineering of the engine, drive train, and internal gauges.  I mean, these cars were the front runner of modern technology; each one though assembled was still done by hand.  There was not a single robot to touch them.  Then there are the people who have lovingly restored them; worked themselves to the bone to bring back that note of history.  These people found love in the passion the designer had and took what years have taken away from it and given the car back its life.  I may never own one, but I can surely appreciate a fine machine.  This year