In high school, a non-mechanically inclined friend asked me to install some "glass-pack" mufflers on his beloved '55 Chevy.
He was oh-so-proud, and vain, about this car that I just couldn't pass up this opportunity. I installed the mufflers, all right. But first, I brazed grease zerks into them near the inlets.
Every so often, I would lube his mufflers, creating huge clouds of embarrasing blue smoke. Smoking episodes mysteriously came and went with the owner in a near panic to find out what was wrong with his baby.
He was a good guy. He could take a joke as well as dish them out.
He was oh-so-proud, and vain, about this car that I just couldn't pass up this opportunity. I installed the mufflers, all right. But first, I brazed grease zerks into them near the inlets.
Every so often, I would lube his mufflers, creating huge clouds of embarrasing blue smoke. Smoking episodes mysteriously came and went with the owner in a near panic to find out what was wrong with his baby.
He was a good guy. He could take a joke as well as dish them out.