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Labor Day Weekend ALL BRIT

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kcbugeye1275

kcbugeye1275

Jedi Knight
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Each year, the all Brit has had a different meaning for me. Two of the previous yrs. I've worked out of town and it was tough, but I missed the show. Last year, my wife and I started a new business and I couldn't make it. My two boys both went and kept Dad up on who and what was going on. This year, the show has inspired me to do a few things that I have been putting off. I dropped the gas tank (a small rust issue), rear links (bushings), and replacing the sterio box front shroud which had broken on the my original installation. Twenty four years ago, I went to the first all Brit in KC without a running car and got inspired. This is something I think I'd enjoy doing. The next year, I'd restored an old Bugeye and just got it running with the help off some good friends. I took my girlfriend to it from a town 100 miles away. She still reminds me about her reservations, I hadn't driven the car 100 miles since I'd gotten it running. What a good time we had. So, now we have 2 boys who are really good kids, a lot of years have past, a lot of my old friends are seem ageless, and I still have the bug to do something just before the all Brit to spruce the ole Bugeye up. I don't know what owning a lbc means to anybody else, but it seems that I keep exploring and finding new things about my car and myself. /ubbthreads/images/graemlins/cheers.gif
 
Hear hear. Wifes only request on this one was a wind blocker. Think she loves em almost as much as I do even if it is only to drive and ride a bit anymore.
 
Great post!

I saw my first LBC when I was about 3-4 years old. I was standing on the front seat of my mother's Dodge wagon while she waited for the light to change. The car in front of us was a Spitfire I think. Standing on the parcel shelf with his head hanging out the unzipped rear window was another boy about my age. I wanted to be that boy sooooo bad. And it was love at first site for the LBC.

So my LBC represents the fullfilment of a life long dream.

And consequently, I feel a twinge of guilt every time I strap my daughter into her foam rubber and plastic straight jacket chair. Sometimes knowledge is a terrible thing.
 
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