My four-wheel daily driver is a 1986 Volkswagen Cabriolet. Purchased from its original owner, I've had it for nearly eleven years. When regular gas went over two bucks a gallon, I parked my Ford F150 pick'emup truck and now drive the 'vert unless I'm hauling 4x8 plywood or some such.
Seven years ago, I put a new headliner, pad and top on the Vdub. The night of April 3-4 2008, a fairly benign hailstorm -if there is such a thing- rolled across our village. Next morning, my 30mpg baby had 50+ holes knocked in the roof! Insurance? Nah... too expensive; just liability. So...
I've had a beautiful, new top sitting on my workbench, patiently waiting to be fitted onto the Cabriolet. Mister FixIt, as my bride calls me, done waited until we're in a string of 100+ degree days to work on the car. Never claimed to be really bright; just handy.
So for the last six hours today, I've removed the old top and completed the nasty prep work -who knew all that glue and stick'em would have to come off someday?- in preparation for the new top installation
early tomorrow morning.
I stink. I'm hot. I drinking my second cold adult beverage. My wife left for Austin, Texas, this morning on a week-long
bidnez trip. I am
The King of the Castle... and I have my wife's permission to say so.
The photo shows how I've been embarrassing myself while driving the Cabriolet. The duct tape repairs scream
ghetto.
