1971 Buick Riviera, 455 V8, TH400 Auto
Of the sixty-some-odd cars I've owned, this one was the first, bought twenty one years ago. It will always be my favorite. Strangely, this car almost seems like a reflection of my life. When times are tough, she sits in the driveway, deteriorating. When times are good, we're on the road together, happy as a clam. After watching her rot in front of my house for the last eight years, I've spent the last two weeks putting her back together. She's looking rough, with the clear coat burned away in huge patches and a shabby demeanor inside and out, but I couldn't be happier. The original bench seat has made way for a correct pair of factory buckets and matching original-equipment console-mounted shifter. Steering and brakes are back to working as they should. The big 455 is showing its age, but is now in decent tune, quick and smooth. I've missed hearing its bark through the dual glasspacks. It's good to be back.