If there is a cleaner example of a 1975-1979 Mopar B-body than Jim Rief’s 1977 Dodge Charger SE, then it is socked away in a corner of a museum that is owned by Stellantis that nobody is allowed to visit. And I promise you that it isn’t half as interesting. Ever since last year’s MCACN show, when my inboxes started to blow up, Rief’s Charger has been the ultimate form of what you could do with the Cordoba-clone. I met with Jim at the World of Wheels show in Louisville earlier this month and got to spend some time chatting with him about his car. Short story: he’s had the Charger since 1981, it was originally built as a drag car before turning into a show car, the underside is as spotless as the surface and interior are, and he’s been stashing parts away since about the time I was tottering around in Pampers while trying to sing along to Sesame Street.
I am taking nothing away from Jim’s Charger. The paint is gorgeous, the plating spot-on, the interior looks better than any factory photo could have promised, and if you’ve ever seen the video of this car idling around, it sounds like a freaking beast (lucky me, I can’t find the clip or I would share it.) But when you have a car as clean inside and out, as detailed and done as Jim’s Charger is…does that remove the ability to enjoy it as a car? I’d be scared shitless to drive his car anywhere other than to and from the trailer at an indoor show and maybe at a prestigious car show. On the street? Aw, hell no. I wouldn’t know what would scare me more: the drivers who aren’t paying attention to the roads or the drivers who are paying way too much attention to my car.
“How clean is too clean?” I ask this question after I’ve cleaned up another 20 pounds of ATF-soaked kitty litter up off of my garage thanks to my own Charger, hopefully for the last time (I’ve said that before). The car is on jackstands. Major components are blown apart and I’m about to break out a death wheel and start cutting. I’m pricing out suspension parts. I’m doing projects I haven’t done before, which always puts my stomach into a knot, and I’m doing all of this so I can put thousands of miles on the clock this year. Admittedly, the Charger is cleaner underneath than most anything I’ve owned prior to that was older than 1990. That doesn’t mean that I don’t look like a 1940s grease monkey when I’m done for the day. And yes, the clearcoat peel my car is suffering on the hood is still driving me up the wall.
Would I like my car to be as clean as Jim’s, though? I don’t know. I can’t leave the car sitting long. I drive it as often as I can get away with it. The only time I actively don’t take the car out is when it’s a local trip and there is rain in the forecast…not mist, not a small chance of a quick shower, but legitimate rain. Even that isn’t a dealbreaker, as the car was left out in the hotel parking lot during a storm last year during my Carlisle trip. Oh well, that’s the breaks for insisting on driving the car. And that’s why I’m not 100% concerned about being as nice as Jim’s car. I’d love the interior. I’d love the paint quality to be up to that level. And a big-block with an attitude issue and a fat, lumpy exhaust note works just fine. But for now, I can survive with a few rock chips and a slightly grimy underside if it means I can hit the road whenever I want.
Amen. There is a place for both types of cars and respect for both types of owners. Cam