The aftermarket parts industry is a $30 billion a year business, and I dare you to find the person-or even an entire magazine staff- who can keep track of everything out there that's pertinent to our cars. To the point: There probably is a theoretical best part you can choose for any given need, but how often in reality do you think that perfect choice actually gets made?
Choosing the right part is hard, because you're shooting at a moving target. One guy may be price driven, while another guy might be a hardcore racer. The personal preference of the PHR staff usually is to err on the side of the optimal street application-so we're already at odds with some guys, and even other magazines. It's just not possible to settle the argument over which part is best, because the bull's eye is different for everyone. One thing you can count on, however, is that regardless of what you choose, someone hiding behind a keyboard will take issue with it.
The argument extends to cars, too. The other day, I got an e-mail from an irate reader who dressed us down because he didn't think a Duster was a worthwhile car for anybody to build, or for us to feature. He thought it was a bad return on the dollar because in his opinion, Dusters weren't worth a damn. All that, despite the fact that the Duster's owner made it very clear in the story that he chose it, among other things, for sentimental reasons, not as an investment.
And the jousting about who is best-I'm really sad to say-is an extension of that. There are people in our hobby who make the argument that their car is better (ergo, they are better) because they built every stitch of it, while some other guy didn't. This is outright crap. The funny thing is that I know dozens of guys who really did build their own cars, and the things they all have in common are humility, open-mindedness, and a positive attitude. Mastering that much stuff has a way of bringing a person down to earth. Larry Bell-the guy who built the Corvair in this issue for instance-is one of these rare individuals. The most vocal complainers don't actually build their cars in totality like Larry- but even that's immaterial. I'm about to tell you the secret to real hot rodding happiness, the ultimate mod, so to speak.
The best "mod" you can do is to modify your attitude. Next time somebody starts drilling into you on some vapid forum thread, just remember you're building your car for yourself, not them. If somebody rags you for letting a pro build your engine, put your Teflon on, and let the offender's comment roll off your back. So what if you can't do body and paint like Alan Johnson, or build an engine like Jon Kaase? (As if not being a genius is some kind of character flaw.) You've got to go with your strengths, not just in the hot rodding hobby, but in life.
We all got into this because we love it. You can be a modest tinkerer, bolting junk on your car in the garage, and have just as much fun as the guy who's going 400 mph at Bonneville. But most of all, it's your choice to not feel inferior about it. G'head; let 'em swing their fists, 'cause it doesn't matter. Car guys are naturally competitive-at the track, in the garage, and at the car show. If a guy is successful where the rubber meets the road-the real one, not the virtual one-he shouldn't have to give someone a verbal beating on a message board. Not only is there more than one right way to build a car, but all the right ways have yet to be discovered.
Have the right attitude, go to your strength, and respect the strength of others, be it building engines, driving, welding, bodywork, or even having a knack for finding bargains. Your strength may even be networking, telling jokes over beers, or earning large piles of cash. Your personal strength, your attitude, and your love for the hobby are your best mods, and don't ever believe anybody who tells you you're less of a hot rodder because of them.
Got Something to Say?
I want to hear from you.Drop me an e-mail at john.hunkins@sourceinterlink.com.