I'm not a huge fan of country music. I haven't analyzed it quite as much as dance music (oh, 103.5 KTU, the things you taught me about Rihanna and Maroon 5 I'll carry with me for at least another week or two), but it seems to fall into two categories - a singing list of nouns the performer likes or a singing list of really crappy things that have happened to the performer. There is no grey in country music, either your ass is in the sand and your toes are in the surf and life is good or your car's broken down, the dog's run off and your spouse is also MIA. 

Back in April 2009, even the surf and sand of Cleveland, Ohio, where, for the record, my ass and toes never feared to tread, was breaking up with me. So was a varied, more than decade-long career in journalism. Who knew that the depths of the Great Repression would have a small business magazine in northeast Ohio in its sights? But, there I was, a unsuspecting doe wandering about underneath a deer blind inhabited by a particularly spiteful economic downturn.

So, when my job left Cleveland on a train, I took it to mean that the fasten seatbelts sign had been turned off and I was free to move about the universe again. The universe took it to mean it was time to shove cowboy boots on my feet and drop the needle on the record. And there I was, almost to the happy freedom of Pennsylvania in my Li'l Red Saab 900 when, at a quick fill-up at the last stations in Ohio, crack and tonk. The nozzle was in the filler neck and the fuel door was on the ground.

 

I know when I'm beat and when sticking a finger in fate's eye means the whole world goes without fuel door flaps, so onto the passenger side floor it went to wait a month or two until I could swap filler necks. I'm not going to say that helped get things back on track with the rest of my life, but it at least made her look a little less ragged.

If your luck hasn't been as good and your gas door has been everywhere but on the side of your car, check out Chief's latest offering. We don't have a Talladega Red in stock, but if your '94 ComEd convertible is missing it's lid, we've got you covered.