Between the spots of rust, my car shines. That is, in a manner of speaking. Why? Well, for two good reasons--not only is this convertible a real American Graffiti car, but it was also the last 1946 Ford convertible built in the Richmond, California assembly plant. How's that for claims to fame? Anyway, John D. Van Amringe, a World War Two veteran who came home to work for Ford as a convertible top engineer, was the original owner. If you're asking yourself how do I know this, well, the sister of the first owner told the second owner who told the third owner--that's me! Also, John's military seabag, which contains the bumper jack in the original early Ford plastic bag, is still hidden under the wooden trunk "floorboard." Originally, the convertible was painted a grey green color, with a reddish leatherette interior, and a dark green canvas convertible top. Mr. Van Amringe owned this beauty until 1958. His early death resulted in the car being stored, uncovered, in a farm shed in Newman, California by sister Myra Franceschini. Local pharmacist John Mowry knew Myra, and in 1961 bought the '46 so that his son Art had wheels. Art was a student at the College of the Pacific in Stockton and had a pretty San Francisco Bay Area girlfriend named Pat who he eventually married. It seems he needed an automobile to romance his girl. Now, I'm using romance rather loosely because Pat had to hold an open umbrella (with the convertible top up) over them during wet weather. On his summer vacations, Art Mowry, together with his friend Jim Weimer of Crows Landing, cruised 10th and 11th streets in Modesto at the same time George Lucas did. Weimer owned a gold '47 Ford sedan that featured a true flathead "mill" complete with three jugs. You have to remember that gas was only 25 cents a gallon during the early 60's. Everyone would stop at Nickel News for rum flavored Crooks cigars trying to look cool on those hot summer nights. Mel's drive-in (in reality, Burge's drive-in) was on 9th Street, and a favorite place to loop around several times, then continue your cruise. And yes, the Modesto Police were a no-nonsense group of peace officers and yes, at times, the drive-in carhops did wear roller-skates. When Art graduated, he bought himself a new silver blue A. C. Cobra with chrome wire wheels---got to go for a ride once, and gads but that Cobra was fast. Art's '46, with a not-so-great gold paint job, white JC Whitney top, and a 1939 floor shifter transmission, was now an old clunker parked and forgotten. Forgotten that is, until I wanted a jalopy with a lot of personality. In 1970, I paid Art $200 for his car and the pink slip. Named Mr. Tubs by my wife Maureen for his rather rotund derriere, this gem in-the-rough has been a lot of fun. In our youth, we drove Tubs over the 10,000 foot Tioga Pass in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, across a blistering hot San Joaquin Valley, and then returned home over a way-too-cold Pacheco Pass. Nowadays Tubs and I don't go any farther than I care to walk home. My only contributions to this less than "cherry" ragtop are blue dot taillights, twin exhaust pipes, a Southwind gas heater, and 15 inch Mercury rims. If you don't know what a Southwind heater is, find out, because it's pretty darn trick. I do hope, dear reader, that you will enjoy my photograph of Mr. Tubs and won't be tempted to hurt our feelings by telling me that Tubs still looks like a $200 refugee from a junk yard--even if it's true!

By the way, that personalized California license plate is an early one. However, I wasn't early enough for my first and second choices, which were "ODD BOD" AND "RUSTY 46." Well, I haven't been particularly kind to Tubs in what I've written, so hope to mend fences with the following. Is Mr. Tubs ahead of his time? Could be! Bob Drake of Grants Pass, Oregon manufactures fantastic old Ford parts. On his web site, he shares his story of the renovation of a '35 coupe. The goal was to turn an old rusty body and frame into a drivable old rusty car with no more than $25,000 invested. Mr. Drake reports that his coupe receives lots of positive attention at gas stations and at the car shows he attends. His '35, and my '46, aren't mocking the beautiful vehicles that owners have spent a lot of time and money on---just getting back to basics. However, I can tell you that in the almost 40 years that I've owned Mr. Tubs, the question I'm most often asked is---When are you going to restore it?

The following eMail is from my friend Scott, a very talented man who has a wicked sense of humor and a beautifully restored red Chevy stepside: "Dear Mr. Tubbs, It was truly a pleasure meeting you the other day. Part of me wants to take you into a shop, strip you down, expose your bare metal and refinish your body to perfection. The other part of me realizes that in doing so, it would completely destroy your character. Long live the classics! Lil' Red Truck"

This eMail comes from my friend Dr. Jerry Petrone of Southern California: "When I was in college in the '50s, I owned two cars, neither of which I dared tell my parents about because they thought I shouldn't have wheels. The first was a '39 Ford two-door sedan (cost $45, believe it or not) that didn't have reliable brakes or a starter and I often had to start it by popping the clutch or using the hand crank. I painted it black with a wavy white stripe down the middle and achieved a certain notoriety around the Stanford campus for driving what came to be known as "the skunk car." One Saturday night, late, at the urging of other inebriated fraternity brothers, we drove it onto inner Quad, parked it front of Memorial Church and let the air out of the tires, imagining with great hilarity the shock of church- goers seeing this pathetic heap the next morning. What I didn't count on was the campus police, who discovered the car (I have no idea how) and came to the fraternity house about six in the morning and, making unclear threats about time in San Quentin, rousted me out and made me remove the vehicle, which I did using a tire pump while suffering mightily from a hangover. I eventually sold the car to some local high school townies for $2 The second car was a cherry '36 Chevy pickup which I wish I still owned today. It would be worth a fortune, I'm sure. This one set me back $65. I hand-painted a sign on the front doors that read: "Ajax Guano Works, Milpitas." Once, during an anti-H bomb demonstration on campus, I drove it to the site and left it there with a huge sign which said: "Continue H-bomb tests! One bomb scares enough guano out of a flock of seagulls to fertilize ten acres." I still have a photo of it. Since the Chevy had a faulty radiator I could only drive it so far before leaving it to cool off, which it did during the entire demonstration. What do you think of that? Regards, Jerry"

This not-so-funny eMail is from my brother Dave: "Okay, there was an abundance of humor, both automotive, and social. I believe this is the same Mr. Tubbs that balked on the South bay 101 shortly after its being acquired by a young San Mateo resident. We broke down as memory serves, but I can't remember why. Oh, it was Burgess Drive In, near 9th and Needham: or at least near Needham Ave. It thrills both Sharon and Me that you've taken a $200.00 purchase that allowed us to see the South Bay corridor closer than we would have ever imagined, and lifted it into ragtop history. What was that Ford acronym, ? Fix or Repair Daily ? Thanks for the phone call. Dave"

This eMail is from Florida. Mike, like myself, is a drive-in theater fan. "I think that if I were in your shoes, I'd be driving Mr. Tubbs all over the highways and byways of California just looking for a nice drive-in to pull in to. I'm sure the Tubbster adds a touch of class to anywhere he rests his wheels! All the best...Mike" You can find Mike's most interesting blog here.