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Well, here is Sybil. Robert's latest attempt to prove that $2000 can still buy a hell of a lot of car these days!

A nice-looking '68 Mercury Cougar XR7 had been parked just down the street with a sign that said "F-SALE" on it. Now, it doesn't take much to get the old hamster to start spinning the wheel in my cerebrum, and after only a couple months of driving past this car, I realized that "F-SALE" actually meant that someone was selling this very car!

Finally one day I pulled over to take a look. And wouldn't you know it, this baby was CLEAN! Cougar dash

This old Merc still had the original Stereo-Sonic AM/8 track unit sitting in the dash! And I haven't even started to mention the condition of the Charcoal Black Levant vinyl interior with leather appointments. Or the original owner's manual and owner data plate in the glovebox. This was too much!

So, anyway, I took the car out for a spin and everything seemed in order. I couldn't find rust anywhere on the car, and although I came across a couple areas that obviously had some body filler, the work was competent and the quality of the paint job was good enough to cover it up.

I was ready to hit the road! Of course, the first thing I did was pull out one of the few working 8-tracks I still have just to see how lucky I got. And I'll be gol-darned if McCartney's "Back To The Egg" wasn't coming through loud and clear on the original stereo speakers mounted so far back in the kick panels that are actually against the firewall.

I was cruising down Glendale Blvd. in Atwater Village, headed toward my local AAA office to get her registered, when I hit the gas and nothing happened. Well, not nothing, but not much. I coasted the car in for a landing and started her up again, which she was more than willing to do. I think I got another 10 feet down the road and she conked out again. So I whipped out the AAA card and waited for the wrecker. We hooked her up to the rig and headed off to Advance Automotive and Jose, the best mechanic on the planet (well he's cheap at least). Jose took a look around and wouldn't you know it, MY FUEL FILTER WAS CLOGGED UP WITH RUST!!!

After I said goodbye to Jose, I headed for the Pep Boys (auto parts) for a few choice items, and then decided to call it a day. However, Sybil had apparently beaten me to the punch. And here is what happened when I turned the key...nothing!!!

I deduced that the Boys of Pep needed me to spend a couple more bucks to appease the gods of things mechanical before I could go home, so I went back for some spare fuel filters. About 15 minutes later, she started right up again and took me home. I didn't push my luck and walked to the laundromat last night just to be safe.

Since Robbie Dee submitted this, we here at My Daily Driver have been keeping tabs.
To date, Sybil has maintained the multiple-personalities true to her name sake. However, as every vintage car driver knows, everytime you turn the key it's like opening Pandora's Box, pulling out a Can of Worms and throwing it into a Hornets Nest. But that's why we love them.

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