Another issue that arose during the racing stripe process involved lining up the stripes between the hood, roof, and back end. Unfortunately, Greg and I misjudged the alignment on Greg's stripes (maybe it was the drinks), and the stripes on his trunk are slightly off-center from the ones just below the back bumper. If anything, though, the misaligned stripes only add to the Mustang's already formidable character.

Throughout the weekend, I felt like I was working on a special important project, even though I knew painting our cars was nothing noteworthy (though writing about it kind of assumes at least some noteworthiness, I suppose). This painting project reminded me of when, in grade school, my brother and cousin and I tried to clear all the leaves and branches from a waterfall that led into the creek by our busstop. It was our mission to unclog that waterfall, even though nature was dealing with the clog admirably on its own. Back then, I knew it was just for fun, but part of the fun was taking on the idea that the job was meaningful.

Striping my car with Greg also carried a mission-like quality to it. We worked diligently and talked little. No one knew we were painting our cars, and no one had any reason to care, but we treated the task with the seriousness and effort of children who thought they were doing something significant.


next: results of labor