My first (not current) mother-in-law had a lime-green 73 bus that I spent some time fiddling with. At the time, it wasn’t smog-exempt, so getting it street-legal was a tad more effort than it was worth. She offered to give it to me, but I passed. Shortly after my divorce, that bus became smog-exempt, and I regretted passing it up. Deadly as it would have been in any freeway collision, it was a nifty little bugger. And there’s a certain thrill that comes with the realization that there’s nothing between your knees and the car in front of you but an eighth inch or so of steel, and maybe a headlight bulb. Unless your bus wore the spare tire up front, which mother-in-law’s did not.
