May 12, 2021 | Surfing One early spring day in 1962, Jan and I were driving to the beach in my newly custom-painted, fuel-injected Corvette. I had spent months hand-sanding the fiberglass. I had taken off all the chrome. The guy from the Japanese body shop I frequented painted the car with twenty coats of Chinese red lacquer. The indent on the side of the car that was normally painted white at the factory, I had painted jet black. I removed the fake knock-off hubcaps, painted the rims jet black, and put on small, button Chevy hubcaps. For Christmas, my now girlfriend Judy had bought me a beautiful handcrafted wooden Nardi steering wheel made in Italy, and she had my name engraved on one of the polished aluminum spokes.