Seeing with blind eyes

Last night an expert came by and gave my car a look. Well, maybe not an expert. But Kevin – a co-worker and Chevrolet guy who's currently restoring a Camaro – has two assets I don't: a detached perspective and experience. (Of course, even his son Matt, 14, who came with him, has more experience going for him than I do.)

Kevin liked what he saw, which gave me a boost. He shared his thoughts on when to tackle what, swatted a few bugs, made dropping the rear end sound like something even I could manage – and then made an observation that revealed one of my blind spots.

I had realized that the front bumper was bent, and that the sheet metal below the grill was dented. And I had guessed that the hood wasn't original – wrong paint, wrong bend on the front edge. Of course I had realized all that. I can see, can't I?

But I hadn't added those factors up to their obvious sum: an accident in my car's past.

It took Kevin to do that. He clinched the case when he looked inside, at the engine compartment. The sheet metal between the left front wheel well and the headlight looked like an old shirt: rumpled, with a tear. Above the tear Kevin noted three tiny holes in a vertical line – evidence suggesting a body shop had pulled out a dent there.

What does it mean? For starters, there's a mishap in my car's past whose extent I don't know. Still, odds are it was a fender bender.

This means the real issue probably isn't the mishap. It's that in my enthusiasm for the car, I looked past something I didn't want to see. It's not the first time (just ask my wife!) and my history suggests it won't be the last. But restoring this car is about fixing its problems – and what I don't see, I can't fix.