It was a sunny spring morning when I first saw it. A primered ’55 Chevy had entered the gas station next to the Volkswagen dealership where I was working. It was loud. It was jacked up. It was glorious. It was a gasser.
More Guests Arrive at My M2 Party.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been a completist collector. The year was 1997 and I was 13 years old.
Narrowing Down Greenlight’s Wide World of Wheels.
I’ve been marching to the beat of Greenlight’s drum since 2009, and in the years following, I’ve freed hundreds of cars from their blister prisons. Of course, once I was done admiring them, they were bagged and tagged and relegated to Rubbermaids in my detached garage.