Jack Bennett

I am sorry to have offended anyone with my drivel. And, you are correct that only the owners of an expensive car should be allowed to post on this forum. And, only a idiot would assume that only high quality, high detergent, multi weight motor oil had been used in a seventy year old engine, and it would also imply that it was a idiot telling someone who had asked about “which oil to use in a TUG engine, that using a non detergent oil prior to cleaning out the sludge, was bum information. It is apparent that I have both presented my age and experience as fraudulent, and I am trying to subvert the knowledge of a person who previously used Facebook as source of automotive information is not in keeping with the forum standards. I do feel appropriately bad, will delete my abusive and presumptuous comment, and exit the forum again. My apologies……I am not a professional, little more than a hobbyist, and will limit my future internet sojourns to Facebook.

Since I bought the 1929 Fargo Express Panel a few months ago, I have concentrated most of my efforts to get the sheet metal and rotten woodwork back into a condition I could determine if the truck was even repairable. I have managed to fit enough pieces of the rotten wood together to make a relatively accurate set of patterns, and have managed to complete fabrication of most of the wooden body parts. The doors were a real task since the regulators were broken, badly bent and rusted beyond recognition. The windows were both broken with most of the glass missing. These I have replaced with plexiglass, and I personally think they look better than the glass originals. The original flathead six cylinder engine had been left outside with four of the six spark plugs missing, and the bores had sat since, at least, 1976 full of nasty water and debris. The engine was locked up and four of the six cylinder bores was badly rusted and deeply pitted. So, rather than beat a dead horse by attempting to rebuild a engine, I could never determine a model for, with no transmission or drive shaft, I elected to replace the 1929 engine with the engine and transmission from a 1951 Dodge 1/2 ton pickup. This was a learning experience since the Canadian built Fargo engine had a 25” head, and the pickup engine was only 23”. That measurement gradually evolved into a 7” difference between the motor mounts, and entailed moving the 1951 engine 7” toward the truck rear to place it in the rear mounts and allow the fabrication of new front mounts. The change back to the spring daylight savings plan gave me enough daylight to get the engine complete and ready to run. So today the 1951 Dodge, 218 CI engine started and ran like a new one. OH, that is if a new one had a leaking fuel pump, a broken fuel pump settling bulb and a leaking carburetor. The original engine I removed from the truck used an odd looking electric fuel pump so I took the electric fuel pump I’d installed in my 1951 Plymouth Cambridge, hooked it up to the Fargo engine, and it works great….But, as I said, the carburetor started leaking. I have a few problems though and I need some help. The original radiator, with honeycomb water passages leaks too bad to even think about repairing it myself. And, the clutch pedal on the 1951 bell housing is about 5 or 6 inches too far to the left of the steering column to fit into the firewall slots which would allow it to be fully depressed. And, the biggy…..the original, 1929, engine I removed from the truck used a electric push button, mounted on the engine bell housing, to engage the electrically operated starter. The 1951 Dodge engine has a manually operated starter, with a yoke mounted atop the bendix housing on the starter, and the starter is engaged by pressing (with your foot) on a pad mounted to the floorboard. I need to fabricate a device which mounts to the floorboards, and is used to depress the extension on the starter. I won’t tie up space here by trying to detail how it works because, if you don’t have it, the explanation would not help anyway. But, if you do have a 1950’s vintage dodge pickup, with a manually engaged starter, I would really appreciate a few photos of the device to give me a idea where to go with this. Jack

Even if you are a professional detailer, and used the hot water/steam pressure washer to make, instead of spend money, I’d still advise against buying it. I am supposing the Mack truck is being worked on as a hobby project, rather than a vehicle to use in commercial trade. As such, my recommendation is that, since you will have plenty to do as recreation/relaxation projects working on the truck, you have little need of another machine, namely a fuel sucking, storage space gulping pressure washer, which is very needy of maintenance in itself, to play with. There are some environmental friendly engine degreasers available, and, as you have read in the responses, there are some really good, off the shelf, cleaners and degreasers available which work well with a little elbow grease. A suggestion I do have is that you get a good, stiff, nylon brush and visit the Dollar store and stock up on their three for $1.25 paint brushes. These are great for doing seamers, and are cheap enough you can trash them after a rough days use. Oh, and the cold water machine……unless you have stripped the truck of all electrical devices, removed all dash panel instruments and taken out any wiring which will be damaged, I’d pass on buying the cold water pressure washer too. Jack

My curiosity got the best of me, and I won’t sleep tonight if I don’t ask. It piqued my interest in what a “road roller” was when you mentioned that a friend had bought one. I call a big, heavy machine with a huge, heavy roller, used to compact new laid asphalt a “steam roller”……which is surely a dated colloquialism which should have died out when “steam rollers” became diesel powered. But, someone tuned in and mentioned that they too had bought a “road roller” themselves, and it too has a silver dome engine. So, either the two of you are from the same generation, and the same demographic area, which commonly call a “steam roller” a “road roller”, or I need to ask…….”what the heck is a “road roller”. In order to establish my qualifications to ask such a question I present my credentials in the form of a Silver dome engine, which too remains unidentified, but was in a 1929 Fargo Express Packet Panel truck I bought a few months ago. Could you please post a photo of your “road roller” to put my curiosity to rest? Jack

I’m missing something here. I tried the Amazon.com link you posted, and sure enough, they have rolls of 14 AWG, red braided copper wire, exactly as you said you are looking for. It is true that “the things you are looking for are usually found in the last place you look”. This being the case, why wasn’t Amazon the last place you looked, and bought all the wire you need from them? Jack

My comment too, is a little off base Actually, the raccoon problem on McNeil Island is also a result of a prankster. It seems that the settlers on McNeil Island recognized that an uncontrolled raccoon population, on this little eleven acre island, could be disastrous. So, in about 1856 they hired a wildlife veterinarian to come to the island and “fix” all the raccoons they could trap. But, as the story goes, a young prankster stole, the vets spay/neuter kit, and the vet stormed off the island without touching a single raccoon. Jack

Reminds me of a, not too pleasant, memory from a time in the 1960’s while I was stationed in Germany. My rotation date back to the states was near, and the time for me to take my personal car to Bremerhaven for shipment was upon me. So, as was done, I made contact with another female dependent who needed a ride to Bremerhaven to pick up their family car which was arriving in country. Drop off of my car, and pick up of hers went flawlessly, and in no time we were back on the Autobahn heading home toward Schweinfurt. The autobahn had no posted speed limit, and cruising at 90 miles per hour was a pretty usual thing if you didn’t want to get some single finger greeting as a slow poke. So, I can only suppose we were doing at least 90 MPH when the car, I think was a Mercedes, blasted past us as if we were standing still. Nothing seemed out of place until the car was nearly out of sight, and was little more than a dot, about the size of a kids toy block, on our wind shield. And then, as the car topped a rise in the highway, it became immediately apparent by the light between the bottom of the car and the black of the pavement, that the car was now airborne. As the car topped the hill, and we had just began our ascent, the car disappeared from sight, and was presumed gone. But, as we crested the hill the car could be seen again, but this time it was rolling end for end, and reducing itself to shards of glass and metal as it tore itself apart as it careened down the Highway. Bodies could be seen as they were thrown from the disintegrating car, and I was truly shocked at the sight. That shock was 99 on a shock scale of 0 to 100, but it immediately went to 100 when I looked at the woman driving our car, and saw that she had released the steering wheel, and was now covering her eyes with her hands. I would estimate our speed to be well over 100 MPH, and we were now driving through the debris field, and shredded bodies, which had been a car and its occupants only minutes before. My impulse to grab the wheel was suppressed, and, out of sheer luck, she returned her hands to the wheel and regained control of the car after just a shout. But then, she began crying and as our car slowed, kept repeating that we had to help “them”. Sadly, German law dictates that if you are in attendance at an accident victims death, you become legally responsible for disposition of that person remains and may be held fiscally responsible for their death. Thankfully, she came to her senses and we proceeded on to Schweinfurt without further comment or incident. Jack

In the Army we would disassemble our beds once a week, and exchange our used linen for clean at the supply room. On that day we folded our mattress and placed our naked pillow atop it for “airing” and inspection. This was a good practice, and I brought it forth into my, now single life. Actually, it means I no longer bother making up my bed, and instead just roll the covers back to allow “airing”. Since as a retired guy, I have to ration the time I waste by replacing tools to their “proper” place, and retrieving them for their next use. So, to save time, and use every available minute on a project, I now have the garage divided into projects, with the tools necessary to do it piled accordingly. This way, in the same vein of thought that an unmade bed is a healthy bed, a cluttered garage is an effective garage, I will never bother hanging up, or storing….i.e. “hiding” a tool again. Jack

Old speedometers have some tiny springs, and even smaller screws. It was more out of pride in myself to improvise ways of handing these feisty little critters, with my arthritic hands, using the tweezers she used on her eyelashes, and the little brush she used to apply makeup, than fear of the whooping I could expect to get if she found out what I was using them for. Jack

I still don’t know what it is, but when us kids got hurt, and may have bruises, bumps and copious quantities of shed blood, dad used to say it would make us as tough as “Whang” leather. Today, I still don’t know the meaning of “Whang” leather, but, in some way I associate it with the rough leather dad’s razor strop was made of, and the amount of wear it must have endured, as dad used it to remedy our childish misdeeds. Jack

McNeil Island Corrections Center, Steilacoom, Washington, now closed, was a Washington State medium security prison, located on an island in the Puget Sound. This institution has direct lineage back to the earliest settlers in Washington state and is still recognized as a tribal hunting ground for a Native American tribe. Even while occupied by the prison, the island retained the identity of a wildlife preserve, and is home to some species of animals not found elsewhere in the state. One animal which has flourished on the island is the raccoon, and these creatures have grown both in size and population which could only be described as explosive. For over a century the prison provided milk and meat for other Washington State penal facilities by maintaining its own dairy herd, a meat packing plant, and, at one time, its own milk pasteurization plant. These activities were all operated by inmates, and the facilities used for their operation was located outside the prison perimeter fences. This necessitated that inmate work crews, sometimes consisting of 25 or 30 convicted felons, and I do mean “worse of the worse” our society has to offer in “bad” guys, were formed up into a military style formation, and marched (?) the 1/2 mile to the meat plant. Inmates have a soft spot for animals, and they form affections for critters ranging from the islands hundreds of feral cats to deers which have became domesticated through daily contact with humans. This affection includes the resplendent raccoon population, and 1200 inmates feeding the racoons a healthy helping of pancakes, peanut butter and Zoom (prison malto-meal) makes for some ginormous racoons in a very short growth period. Inmates also have a affection for prison brewed wine, called “pruno”, which bends their minds in ways a person who has never drank pruno on a, years long, regular basis, could never understand. Anyway, one morning as the Correctional Officer marched the inmate formation past a guard tower, located near the intersection of two roads outside the institution, the officer in the tower made the following entry in the tower log book……. At approximately 0700 hours, the inmate work crew, supervised by officer *********, approached, and began crossing the intersections of *** and *** roads. In an instant, and without any indication of their presence, a gang of 8 or ten raccoons materialized out of the fog and formed a barricade of their bodies across the road. In front of, and confronting the inmate formation was a raccoon which, sanding on its hind legs, stood at least three foot tall, and with it fore legs spread, was at least 2 foot across. Hissing and baring its teeth, the raccoon seemed to be demanding food, and refused to let the inmates proceed across the intersection. Several of the inmates had food, which was stolen from the kitchen, and secreted in their clothing, and spontaneously began withdrawing the food from their pockets and offered it to the raccoons”. However, institution policies clearly makes feeding wildlife a violation, and can leave the offending inmate subject to some severe penalties. So, “The officer in charge stopped the effort, and the inmates quickly stuffed the food back into their clothing. But, the senior, and apparent leader of the raccoon gang, having seen the food, began a purposeful approach toward the inmate close to the front of the formation, and, snarling and baring its teeth, made it perfectly clear it intended on taking the food, even if it meant taking the inmate apart to get it. It should be noted here that the “guard tower” is also called a “gun tower” by the inmates, and it is a well known fact that the tower is armed with a fully loaded AR-15 rifle and a Model 870, 12 gauge shotgun, and, being outside the institution perimeter, has the standing authority to fire at escaping inmates without requesting further permission. Disregarding every natural instinct which must have screamed the warning not to run, “The inmate formation instantly dissolved into a gang of panicked inmates, and turned back toward the protection afforded by the rear gate of the institution”. The supervising officer was in close pursuit, and the tower, seeing their panic, held fire and requested (radio) permission to open the gate. ”With the inmate formation safely re secured within the institution perimeter, and the supervising officer back in control, the incident was concluded and this log entry was closed at 0712 hours. Not added to the entry was the amount of noticeably extra bounce to the step of the inmates as they regained their composure, and boasted about their heroic stand against a attacking raccoon hoard, as they strutted back toward their housing unit for a day off work, but safely secured inside the prison fences. Jack

I can’t date it, but I think my dad’s 1947 Chevy fleetline was the 1st car I seen with a column shift. Maybe there was many cars before that with column shifts, I just remember dad commenting on being able to seat another person in the front seat.And, air conditioning then was a swamp cooler you sat on the center hump, and plugged into the cigar lighter. Moving the shift lever to the steering column made this easier to do. Jacl

In the early 1980s, I worked as a truck mechanic for Harmon truck, rental, in downtown Tacoma, Washington. The company provided heavy trucks, of every sort, for contractors, engaged in heavy construction. Having recently retired from the army, I went to several courses, which helped transition from military to work on civilian, mechanical equipment. So, I was relatively comfortable working on the ring and pinion on a 10 yard dump truck, or doing the air box on a two cycle diesel engine. But, the real stickler to doing my job was the number of different shift patterns used between the different trucks. Probably, the most memorable was the 1970s vintage IHC Cabover, which had the gearshift levers extending from the a space to the right side of the driver, coming from behind the seat. The trucks two speed differential was controlled by a tab on the gearshift lever, but the auxiliary transmission was controlled by a shorter lever to the right of the main shift lever. If you have ever flown a Huey helicopter you would feel right at home driving this truck. Jack

“War Is the mother of invention”, and this is more poignantly true when alluding to the innovation and evolution of mechanical devices. The term “pre-war”, regardless of which war is used as a chronological reference point, becomes perfectly evident when the year, or even a photograph of the car in question is revealed. World War I began in 1914 and ended in 1918. World War II spanned the years 1939 to 1945. It takes only a second of time , and a single factor, to determine the “war” in question when discussing a 1913 model car, as differentiated between a 1938 model car, and that single factor is the date affixed to its manufacture and/or a photograph of the car. Beyond this though is a quick check of the history behind the evolution of a machine which may explain why it was made in a certain way, and why it is considered a unique, remarkable and/or collectible item. Clubs, such as AACA, depends on the unique nature, character and appearance of cars to stay viable in the automotive world of mechanical mentality. But, the historical appeal to some goes beyond “just” cars, and can more clearly define the part our old machines played in the reason wars are used as a means of carbon dating the subjects of our affection. In my case I spread my attentions between several different machines, and like to attach a historical relevance to each of them. One of my foster kids isn’t a car at all, and is “post” WWII, but its reason for existence is also a treasure trove of historical information related to the changing face of war. The machine is called a Model M-53A, Cushman, Civilian-Airborne Motor Scooter, and it was made in 1947. These little motor scooters, equipped with a four horsepower gasoline engine, was made to supplant heavier military vehicles being used for administrative and logistics tasks. Inclusion of a motor scooter, especially one which could be cheaply, and quickly, manufactured, equipped with a endless choice of weapons, built to haul a wide assortment of materials such as ammunition, messages, rations and mail, and transport people and their gear, ferry parts for aircraft and vehicles over terrain not passable to four wheel vehicles, and be air dropped by the hundreds, was a welcome addition to the military transportation inventory. Manufacture of the Model 53, Cushman Airborne motor scooter, continued from the years 1944 thru 1946, but was discontinued when no longer needed for the war effort. But the little machine “which could” had gained a popularity which refused to die as a consequence of the war ending. And, the replica motor scooters was rebadged as M-53A and kept the name “airborne” with the addition of the label “civilian” to differentiate this version from the strictly military version. My machine did see military service at McChord Field, here in Western Washington, during some time period in 1947 and 1948 ferrying air crews to and from their planes on the flight line…….and thus the two seats. Jack

Let’s see…..A headlight which swivels to cover an area where the steering wheel points the car, tail fins, a huge bumper, a top which hides in the trunk, a “hardtop convertible”……….Oh, wait!…….Electronic ignition, electronic fuel injection, a ECM that manages all engine functions………….Whoa!……….mechanical brakes, a vacuum fuel system, a rim which expands into the tire (?)……..tire (?)……..Oh, that rubber thing which replaced the steel rim. In the absence of a car which talks about us, we talk about cars. Old cars, new cars, beautiful cars and beater cars. Cars which do fabulous things and cars which do really stupid things. Cars which please and others which horrify………..Christine marries Herbie and they have a Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang son😄. Talk small block, big block, flathead, L head, hemi-head, gas, diesel or LPG, steam or wood……anything besides politics, finances, religion and Medicare. But talk, and let the era sort itself out Jack

Hi Lahti35……….To start at a beginning, which I feel is important to set the tone of any conversation, I must say that I honestly, appreciate the mature and adult way you responded to my comment. At an age of over 3/4 of a century, a guy like me sometimes gets so full of ourselves we begin to believe we know almost everything about almost anything. Actually, we do know a lot of stuff, about a lot of things. And, what we do know isn’t necessarily wrong, it is just from a book with many pages, and all too often the pages get stuck together, torn or worn with age or just blurred as time, and use, fades the ink. I have worked, both personally and professionally, with Ford trucks of many sizes, of many different ages, and with every sort of problem a truck can have when it is used as a truck is intended to be used. That includes complete brake system replacement, and use of cannibalised parts from one truck to repair another.. I have learned more about the intricacies of the Ford brake system, as a direct consequence of the patience you took to explain something which may have been included in my experiences, but was written on one of the pages which was stuck together, than I learned in over 50 years of hands on experience. Thanks!…..people like you make clubs like this a welcome and beneficial place for the younger generation to hang out…….and maybe keep our hobby alive for future old car fans. Jack

Love your truck and have followed the thread from the start. I too kept a 1978 Ford F-150, 4X4 super cab with a 400M engine for several years prior to making the mistake of trading it in on a 1992 F250 with the E4OD transmission and 460 engine. I seriously thought I disliked the 400M engine more than any other engine Ford made, that is, until I owned a 460, and that dislike was displaced in a second. Anyway, my comment on your progress with your truck is more of a nudge toward terminology than a criticism of anything you are doing. You make reference to a “pressure switch” being used in conjunction with the brake (warning) light on your truck. It seems to be a common thing for the piston in these valves/switches to freeze up and either leave to brake warning light on, or keep it from working at all. Just a bit of information on this valve/switch that may come in handy if future problems develop on the brake system of your F-150. The valve is appropriately called the “Brake Proportioning Valve” because it has the important job of deciding exactly how much fluid will be needed to apply the pressure being applied to the single, but very large piston of the front wheel disk brakes, in direct proportion to the two pistons, in a much smaller bore of the drum type rear brakes. For vehicle control, it is imperative that the rear wheel brakes be applied a split second before the front wheel brake pads contacts the rotor. And, even though the rear cylinders are several feet farther from the master cylinder than the front brake calipers, and the volume of fluid required to maintain a consistently uniform pressure between the front and rear brakes varies throughout the pedal travel, the sliding (shuttle) valve found within this little switch does a good job regulating the volume of that fluid. The dashboard brake warning light is turned on anytime a fault develops in the system which adversely affects the exact proportioning of this pressure. Your example of a leak in the system is a good one a well as a frozen brake piston. I hope you don’t think I’m being a “smart as*, and feathering my own hat at your expense. Please accept my assurances that isn’t the case………You probably know more about Ford brake systems than I can ever learn, but it’s up to guys like us, who do know about the systems, to help those who don’t learn about them. That’s why it’s called a “car club” rather than a “political party”. Jack

At 40 mph, my 1923 dodge roadster is plain scary. And, I’m not even sure, what with the rear wheel only brakes, and wood spokes, I would even want to go faster than 40 miles per hour. But I still have safety requirements that I must observe to use the car on the same street a person does with their Lexus or Mercedes. So my cars, regardless of the age, is updated so far as brake lights, turn signals, safety equipment, such as fluorescent triangles, and I carry a good tool kit and spare , every time they leave the house. But it’s still a 1923 model car with a tiny, four-cylinder engine, and brakes that answer better to a prayer then they do the pressure. Jack

Nor do I want to look like a jerk, and I certainly apologize for appearing to be nosey for checking your profile to see how really very familiar with a “club” you are. I find that you have not posted your birthdate, address, or even general location, and your membership date is not shown. What is remarkable though is that you have made a single post, in the time of forever, and it is advising others what you want to see on this forum. When I open a forum, may it be the Dodge Brothers, WOKR, Cushman, Classic tractor or AACA forum I do so with prior knowledge that there are no garages, junk yards, garage sales or even a barn cluttered with “finds”. Rather I find people whose ages, occupation, location of residence (even in prison), ethnicity or race and certainly gender don’t count toward their value as contributors to the comraderie and fellowship I do expect to find there. Is your 1967 Camero, or your 1965 Mustang important to you? If it is, tell me about it and I’ll listen. When it comes your turn to listen to me tell about the Detroit Lubricator carburetor, or the shaft drive water pump found on my 1923 Dodge Roadster……….well, shall we call that communication of the highest human form imaginable. Jack

There are days I simply don’t feel like messing with my old Dodge (1923), Willys (1927), Fargo (1929), Plymouth (1951), Ford pickup (1995), or KIA (2016). So, being retired, and obligated to nobody to do any certain thing, I can stay in bed, sit on my couch and lament my old age and bunions, go to the bar, get soused and fall down, or work on my Ford 8N tractor (1947) or my Cushman M53 civilian Airborne motor scooter (also 1947). Regardless of what I choose to do with my time, or with what machine I choose to do it with, I seriously don’t expect a well meaning busy body to even hand me a rag to wipe the grease from my hands. Accordingly, I expect that same busy body to scroll right past my garage if my choice of hobby’s offends their sensitive ego. However, when I do finish whatever it is that I choose to do, and having done it to the transmission of a old tractor, rather than the fan belt of a Rolls Royce Silver Shadow, I believe having done it to a mechanical device, and as such, have earned the right to talk about it on the forum without apologizing because it is not on a vehicle suiting your definition of a “antique” or collectible car. Jack

Isn’t this the same sort of question your kid may ask you just before they take a seat on the water slide…….”Hey Dad, where does all this water come from, and why is the slide so wet”? Days of hard earned vacation used, thousands of travel miles and a years worth of grocery money spent to get here, and the semantics of the “water” takes precedence over “why” you are here. What a waste of valuable, and apparently very scarce, brain cells. World war II is a pretty commonly used marker so far as old stuff buffs go. World War I, the Spanish American war, the Bay of Pigs and Vietnam are also good, but not commonly used wars when marking a time period a marker to call memory to a car. I try to stay away from wet blanket arguments by calling my old machines, which vary in vintage from 1923 to 1951, as being “old”. Jack

Totally grateful for your post, and extremely proud to say I have no idea what these are. It gets really monotonous when I have an answer for everything, and I always look like the smart a** because nobody else will even hazard a guess.

Hi 1912Staver. Let me begin with saying that I do appreciate your venture into my own psychosis by responding to my wandering post. But, I must continue by saying that I think, while 99.9% of what you’re saying may be true, I have a lot of difficulty believing the other .01%. It sounds like you came from a pre-interstate Highway, pre-cyber, pre-computer and pre-connected at the cranium society as I have. I call a “unconscious” activity the culmination of a successful “subliminal”, and perhaps a bit confusing, suggestion, and I assure you that your great-uncle was neither a psychotic or a hoarder. Rather, I would say he was a “friend”, a “neighbor”, in the truest sense, as he was willing, and able, to devote his abilities and energies as a mechanic to making the lives of those he cared for a bit more livable. This is true if you remember that, during a time he would be working on a Model “T” or a mid 1950’s car, there was no internet, no Rock Auto, eBay or Amazon.com from which to order repair parts. This made the assemblage of a parts donor bank both feasible and practical. No “hoarding” or “psychosis” involved here. Just a good sense of humanity, prior planning, and something we all need to be. As I said, in the period of time my between my nonage and dotage, I would have relished the idea of owning such a place, and would have covered myself with scrap metal to the point of suffocation. And then, I would relook at my weekend drives along a coastal road in my Willys, or a nice drive through a local cemetery in my old Dodge, and console myself to the idea that not committing myself to such a mess was such a bad idea. Jack

At a time in my life, admittedly occurring decades ago, this would have been a dream came true for a guy like me. But with age, and several hundred views of programs like “Hoarders” and “American Pickers”, I now realize that this is the manifestation of a form of mental illness which is often overlooked as “eccentricity”. In reality, in my case anyway, decades ago just the thought of $400.000.00 being attainable in a lifetime was unimaginable. So, acquiring a single property, even without 300 junk vehicles, was nothing more than a mirage. Now, I could easily sell the home, I already I own, for $500.000.00, buy the property for $400.000.00, buy a hundred gallons of whisky, or beer with the other $100.000.00, and finance the other million or so dollars I would need to spend over the next decades to just clean the place up to a point I could safely visit on free weekends. Or, I could just keep my house, be satisfied with my old cars, finance a new yacht, and spend my weekends cruising Puget Sound or the Pacific Coastline. Jack

At 6’1” and at about 200 pounds, this young man is either awfully big for his age or having a bit of problem with obesity. In the second instance, obesity can be directly linked to inactivity, inactivity connected to isolation and isolation connected to a personality disorder. While the intentions of your wife are commendable, are you sure this is not a problem better handled by professionals, and your involvement limited to that of a friend? Apparently he is more of an introvert, and less than an extrovert, exactly the opposite of what you would like him to be. The worse word in the American English vocabulary is “I” because it usually ends up as a self bolstering attempt to inflate a deflated ego than communicate some initial thought. In this instance “I” seems to be a person torn between pleasing your wife, soothing your personal issues regarding your retirement, finances, health and ethics. The other person most involved in this issue is a young man who seems to have chosen a path leading away from what others consider as “the norm”. This is not 1900, we don’t communicate by smoke signals, and as surely as Bill Gates, Steve Jobs and Elon Musk are real people, we are on the crux of sending humans into space. And the “gamers” will be at the leading edge of the technology which will allow that to happen. You have very eloquently described the facilities, machinery and background association this young man has at his convenience. But, you skirted the explanation of why he doesn’t involve himself in something other than gaming if he already has barns, fields, tractors, and who knows what other resource he can use to enhance his skills and help his mother with her enormous task of dealing with his siblings? My suggestion is that you guide by nudges, from the aspect of a caring, older friend. And, leave the psychological stuff to people both educationally and emotionally equipped to deal with it than you are. Lastly, WHY CARS……..cars are the same machinery used to plow fields if assembled into a tractor body, or a fun thing to ride if a old motor scooter or motor cycle is more in line with skill levels and attention span. I think the saying goes “You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink”.