It isn't often that I spend this space waxing poetic about the magazine's content. Some editors do, but my thought has always been that the Table of Contents is on page three and if you really want to know about the stuff we're writing about, you'll go there first. If that's the case, then why should I spend vast amounts of ink and paper telling you something that you should already know?
In short, I'd rather spend this space talking about the condition of Mustanging. However, there are times when I really struggle to come up with something profound to place on the page here. I mean hey, this is a big area when you consider that we use 9.5 point type on 10.5 leading-and no, I'm not going to explain that. Suffice it to say that small type means a lot of verbage. At minumum, 500 words; average around 600. So here I sit with writers block and a big white Microsoft Word document. Actually, it's more like writer's fatigue. Too many shows and trails in too short of a time. So I have delayed this column until the managing editor is frantic; indeed, she has quietly entreated me to get the thing done for a week. Until last night I had no idea what to write on. Stumped, I gave up and called a friend who is a true Mustang fanatic, learning all the ins and outs of her '91 Fox hatchback. The call was a social one just to see how she was getting along and how the show she'd attended that day had gone. Not to mention give me a break from the trials of the paper chase. To my surprise, my friend sounded somewhat worn and haggard, as if she'd been out in the sun most of the day. Although I paraphrase, the conversation went something like this:
"So how was the show?" I said. "Good. Someone wanted me to ask you where to get those Steeda quarter window covers," came through the receiver at me from a voice croaky with sleep.
"You in bed?! You know its only 6 p.m.," I said with a chuckle. "Steeda.com is the easiest if the owner has internet access."
"Cool. It's all your fault, you know." "What?" I said with some surprise. "The fact that I spent most of the day today painting my outside mirrors and cowl cover. Now, I'm worn out." I laughed. "Why is it my fault?"
"'Cause I read that article you wrote about repainting the car and decided I needed to work on the mirrors and cowl cover. Did you know the mirrors are a pain to take off? Did you know you have to remove the door panels and practically gut the door?" My friend tried to sound indignant, but I could hear the smile through the tough talk.
"Yes, and we cover that in the next issue," I said with a chuckle. "You should have waited a bit."
"Oh, well, it's still your fault." A laugh comes through the receiver and I know that at least one person out there has been inspired by what we do around here. At that point, I also knew what my editorial will be, err is about. I just love it when a plan comes together.