We of the Brass-Era automotive persuasion tend not to range as far afield as our post-war brethren (and sisthren)—at least not without benefit of a trailer—and as luck would have it, I live in the middle of what seems to be a dead-zone, as far as horseless carriage activity is concerned.
But maybe I'm wrong (happens all the time—just ask my wife), so if there are any acetylene-burning, crank-twirling, goggle-wearing retirees out there who happen to live in or close to the Commack area of Long Island, perhaps we can scrape together some impromptu lunch caravans? Anybody out there?
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