Georgia Rainstorm

Here's an experience any wrenching Californian moving to Georgia is likely to have:  You're working on the car and a few small drops of rain fall on you.  Well, hell, it'll be an hour before it's raining for real, so instead of gathering up your tools and putting the carburetor back on, you just keep working.  Unfortunately, rain works differently in a non-desert climate; you get about 30 seconds warning and then it's coming down like something out of the Old Testament.  In the self-portrait here, I'd started to install a new water pump and got caught  in a pounding thunderstorm about halfway through.  Fuck it, I thought, and finished the job, which was extraordinarily miserable- the only good thing was that it wasn't cold rain.  Here I am, filthy and soaking wet, test-driving the Impala down Ponce de Leon in Decatur.  Note the shoulder-belt; not installed on cars until the late 60's, I decided to run some grade-8 bolts through the door pillars and install them (pulled from a '72 Olds) after years of imagining my teeth busted out during a 15-mph wreck by the battleship-like steel dashboard.