A Fool and His Falcon.

I got the heads ported on my Falcon Futura and was thinking of switching out the jets in the carburetor.  It was a grocery getter, a stoplight nomad and a weekend funwagon all in one, and it made me wonder, beyond just porting in hopes of precision, more efficient fuel burn hence better performance and mileage, might I tune harder for more specific performance.

The heads got a middling run from the manifold, good mixture and all, a blend of top end and bottom end power, suitable for everyday conditions.

We had these funny little balls on tiny threads hanging from the rear window trim.  Also had the viable option of a style-matching audio head unit, but I wanted something not so stupidly PCB.  Two knobs.  Presets.  FM1 FM2 AM.  SAT option.  AUX.  CD.  And the dirtly little secret of the iPod controls which were actually for any plug in memory, and not necessarily an iPod or even an Apple product.

I fell asleep in the trunk of the old car over in the afternoon, had flies and stuff on my face, and that magic sand, coarse grains that stick to the forearms and elbows.  It was the old theorem, "if the arm touches anything outdoors, it will have a spattering of coarse sand grains after".

They were saying, maybe I could paint the car, but I was like, no.  It's a sleeper.  I mean, it doesn't look like it would tear your head off, and in fact, it won't and probably can't: it's Prince Alphonso In A Can, a heavier bit of metal than the newer stuff, as it were.

What I didn't have was the plastic Faberge or the fuzzy dice.  I had a religious air freshener dangling from the rear view mirror, but it had long since lost its fresh but odd scent, and there was a little tree wrapped around the pull-out light switch.  

The one on the mirror was an obscure version of "faith as a grain of mustard seed".  And I thought, perhaps I would need a kind of faith too, as I fended off the women from my grandma car.  

And I had the old problem of "why get a 289 when you can instead get a 302?" and then a week later the next phase, "why get a 302 when you can instead get a 351?"  But there was one solution that seemed uniquely suited to my needs, and that was nitrous, which would give an average level of performance otherwise, with a quick burst when needed, as circumstances dictated.  Such as, "is she wearing a tank top without a visible bra?"  "is she wearing jean shorts?"  "do I have to pee urgently?"