What is true or not true about Seattle dying?

[Doctor Steuss]

When I lived in SF I had a 1951 Packard Convertible. It had an automatic transmission but also had the old original brakes. I had Earl Campbell quads and calves after a few years of driving from the Marina to Noe Valley or across the GG Bridge and through the headlands.

Lol. Reminds me of the workout I got the handful of times I drove my grandpa's truck (think it was a late 50's Chevy?). Power steering is a gift from the gods. At least for 150 lb teenagers.

[Binger]

When I lived in SF I had a 1951 Packard Convertible. It had an automatic transmission but also had the old original brakes. I had Earl Campbell quads and calves after a few years of driving from the Marina to Noe Valley or across the GG Bridge and through the headlands.

Lol. Reminds me of the workout I got the handful of times I drove my grandpa's truck (think it was a late 50's Chevy?). Power steering is a gift from the gods. At least for 150 lb teenagers.

Yep. The large diameter steering wheels were for leverage and we needed every inch.

One of my favorite things in that car was the AM radio. I would drive around with a Giants game on that radio and it felt like a real true time machine. I should get another Packard. That was a blast. This was mine but now it is in Belgium.

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[Bret Ripley]

When I lived in SF I had a 1951 Packard Convertible. It had an automatic transmission but also had the old original brakes. I had Earl Campbell quads and calves after a few years of driving from the Marina to Noe Valley or across the GG Bridge and through the headlands.

Lol. Reminds me of the workout I got the handful of times I drove my grandpa's truck (think it was a late 50's Chevy?). Power steering is a gift from the gods. At least for 150 lb teenagers.

That reminds me -- the friend who loaned me his Bronco had another vehicle: a 1957 GMC Panel Van. He had turned it into something of a street rod -- Carter Superquad carburetor, radical cam, other stuff I've forgotten about -- but of course no power steering. That thing was a beast to steer (you almost needed Popeye arms) but aside from that was a complete and total blast to drive. It had been completely de-chromed and only had a coat of primer, so he appropriately named it after fantasy literature's most famous battering ram: Grond. Oh, and it had the old Hydra-matic transmission so, thanks to the frankly uncalled-for extra horsepower, when it catapulted into 2nd it was slightly less uncomfortable than a punch in the kidneys. Arguably.