Memphis. Blues? Not always. We’re messing around at Kevin Thompson’s Hot Rod Solutions garage (that would be in Memphis). The younger side of the equation does not live in Memphis. They live a slow crawl north of the city. Deserted roads. Cotton fields. They are impatient hearts. They slop over. With enthusiasm. With spark. The banter never ceases. The needling is constant. The motion never stops. They are infectious.
KT said: “I call them ‘Machine’ because once they start on sumpthin’ they don’t stop until they’re done. I don’t see how they keep goin’.” They’re young yet, KT, lotsa sap runnin’ out, not old and bent like me (maybe you, too?). Todd McCutchen has a few years on country fox Benny Smith, but the taciturn Benny knows more. Ha! Just ask him. Jena-Lee Dawson, Benny’s affianced, is the positive instigator resultant, a purely charming, purely devilish twist of clover honey and lye soap. Cross this lady and she’ll take your hide…and your ego, too.
I’m staying in KT’s house while the Biscayne is being worried over for the trip home. Ultimately, there’s a problem in the ignition switch, but Benny and Todd inspected and/or removed every sensor on the engine during the troubleshoot, taking cue from the F.A.S.T. website all the while. They finally moved to the ignition switch, which had a loose connection. Problem solved. KT stuck the laptop to the F.A.S.T. engine control unit and trimmed some ragged edges. My big buddy and I finally reunited and ready for the plunge to Florida, the culmination of eight years of folly, stupid thinking, and shapeless plans. The Biscayne got hauled across country twice, once in pieces. I won’t bore you with the odyssey. Suffice that the rosy resurrection finally occurred in Todd’s home garage in Atoka, Tennessee.