Captainkirk's Duster project

Thank you! Actually......
I was out in the House that Duke Built last night, just sorta puttering and cleaning things up a bit. I'd sent what will probably be the last bike repair job of the season on it's way last week; time for a bit of housecleaning. It was somewhat chilly; light jacket weather, anyway, and as I stood there pulling off an O'Doul's my gaze fastened again on the forlorn primer-gray corpse of The Duke sitting there, patiently, quietly, like a convict waiting for parole; biding his time with good behavior. I peeled back the tarp covering the car and stuck my head in through the open driver's window. Sitting forlornly on the passenger bucket was the old Torker with the Holley perched on top like cad-plated cherry, next to it on the tranny hump (over the empty hole the Hurst used to poke through) sat the shiny new Edelbrock Performer I'd rescued from my son a few weeks earlier. The scent of vinyl and, (dare I say it), Disco-era Duster assailed, then overpowered me and my mind went for a little stroll down memory lane as the radio perched on the shelf blared out '70's-era classic rock....Elton John howling about Saturday Night....and then I found myself hunched down in the duct-taped bucket seat, hands on the wheel (which now spins freely like a toy kiddie-car, as there is no longer anything attached to the other end!) and then I was back prowling the streets of Mudville with three hundred and forty sticks of dynamite under the hood.....Bruce Springsteen began crooning about Hidin' on the Backstreets....about thirty years younger, and then I lurched back to reality.
"Soon, Big Guy", I muttered, and after I'd extricated myself from the driver's seat, killed the radio (and the O'Doul's) and flipped off the light switch, I paused.....was that a sigh I heard from the depths? Or was it just....me?:(