[Ray Barton]

Around 1970 in Winnipeg Canada we would go street racing at night time and then hang around the Big Boy restaurant which had an unlit parking lot across the street. One very chilly night I pulled in with my wife and when I got out of my car, I took a leak in front of my car. It was pretty dark over there. We were bull****ting with some regulars when Mr. Know-it-all-about-everything pulls into the lot with his beautiful 70½ Z-28. He wanders over to where we were and looks at my car and says, “Hey Barton, there’s something leaking under your junk Hemi”. When I took my leak, it ran under my car and came out the other side. Before I could say anything, he put his finger in it, licked it, and said “it’s not oil”. I’m kicking my wife to shut up because this guy is 100 pounds bigger than me. He put his finger in it for the second time, licks it, it and tells me “it’s not antifreeze” and does it the third time and tells me “it’s gasoline!” I just smiled and thanked him. Every time I saw him afterward he was always giving a speech about how knowledgeable he was and I would just smile and think, yes, another Chevy guy. – Ray Barton