“There’s a really detailed thread about Andre’s Graffiti car but I can’t figure out how to copy and paste the link to it. Can anyone school an old fool?” If it is a link- right click it - copy- come back in here and paste. If it’s a story - left click - hit copy - at the the start of the article hold down the left mouse button so it starts to high lite the article - high light it to the very end which then come back to here and post paste- wallahhh Or just tell us where the article is and we can Google it.
Here's the link to Andre's American Graffiti car. https://www.jalopyjournal.com/forum/threads/american-graffiti-cars.1182571/page-2#post-13433885
LOL. Mom wasn't always happy with Uncle Craig. Thanks, Jeff. Had fun building the bike. Even recovered his seat in lambskin leather. Couldn't find the thread you mentioned. It would help if I knew which car it is.
You and Cob posted while I was typing. There it is! I swear, Jeff... When you mentioned your uncle had a car in the movie, my mind immediately went to that Chevy coupe. I was actually hoping that was the car LOL. I remember it parked on the right side of the street and viewed from the rear?
There was another big influencer in my young life. Andre’s brother Moe. Two years older and not possessing the fabricating skills that Andre had but a big influence none the less. He was the other “Harley” uncle in my story. He had a beautiful two tone green ‘53 Pontiac with fender skirts, cool hub caps and what seemed to my eyes, a continental kit that was huge! I would be totally engrossed in what was going on with the hotrod build and Moe would stop and say, “headin’ out on a date guys”. That was my cue. I would wait until he got in the car and started it up to make my move. Using my best crouching tiger stealth move, I would sneak up behind and sit on the continental. Confident that my moves concealed my presence. As he pulled out of the driveway I would give Andre’ a kind of low wave and excitedly stifled giggle so as not to give my presence away to Uncle Moe. We would go down the street, and the tip off that he knew I was there should have been how slow he was going. Not at all how he normally left the house. When we got to the corner at U.S.1, he would stop and I would hear the inevitable ratcheting sound of the e brake. The door would open, he would come back, and with a smile say, “sorry Jeff, this is your stop, off you go!”. I’d watch him until he was out of sight and then go back to the hotrod and want to know what I had missed. Stories about Moe, (Maurice) are something that I share with my grandson Liam all time. Not too long ago he and I we’re in my shop working on something and The Joker by Steve Miller came on the radio. He got the biggest kick out of one line in the song, and ever since then he refers to Uncle Moe as, Maurice, the gangster of love!
It was a front on night shot with him in the car talking with a few other guys who were there with their cars.
This kind of stories are exactly what this place is all about... absolutely priceless. Thanks for sharing
Great stories and well written. My 9 yr old granddaughter and 4 yr old grandson would rather be getting dirty in the garage than anywhere else. It's a great life!
Now Cob You should know better than to try and sneak that, “wallahhh” past a Frenchman like me! You forgot the exclamation point!
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