During the pandemic, while many were going stir-crazy with lock-down, I was fortunate enough to have a project to keep me sane.

In 2017, I acquired a 1976 BMW 2002. (yes, “2002” is the model name, not the year. Shame on the short-sighted nomenclature of 1970’s Bavarians) And while I’d already owned & tinkered on a dozen car projects in the past, I had always wanted this desirable model. Growing values had priced me out of the market for a turn-key example but I was still dead chuffed to find this rusty specimen & tow it eagerly back from Chicago in a terrible winter storm. It wasn’t too bad of a trip, though, and the engine (well, parts thereof) fit nicely in cardboard boxes within the pickup bed. That was the origin story. My first car that was older than me. My first carbrueted car.

I’m one to HATE undone projects, or any sort of “I’ll get to it someday” can-kicking so common among the collector car species. I flat didn’t have the time or a proper shop to attack it just yet. I removed the US-spec front bumper right away, though, just so I could sleep at night. But otherwise, I was too busy with logo projects & design consultation with my Omaha Steaks friends to turn any wrenches, much less the welding. Holy smokes, the welding….

Once the pandemic opened my schedule and, in essence, confined me to the property, I had already spent the meantime considering the design approach. True, the mechanical work was much more important than the aesthetic, but that’s all just bolt turnin’ – the appearance was an opportunity for expression.

While these cars look good in any color, the original Chamonix White wasn’t for me. There are already too many monochromatic cars festooning the parking lots of the local Costcos. After consulting with my wife and her brilliant eye, we decided on a medium non-metallic grey (because apparently that’s the right kind of monochromatic), with a rich buckskin tan leather interior. The exterior paint would be punctuated by gold wheels, but the gold had to be rich, bronzy. We’d eliminate as much chrome as possible, and frankly, no wheel with any chrome is even allowed on our property.

At last, I felt small subtle red details were needed, so we went with the red seatbelts & shift knob – but that’s IT – NO MORE RED!

Look, everyone has their thing. This especially is true in the world of cars. There are a lot of things that I don’t vibe with. And that’s fine. But when you build something by hand – 100% – as we did in this case, you really develop opinions.

It’s not perfect. The body work represents us learning as we went. Learning to weld, learning to paint. We know it’ll need a “phase 2” repaint someday. But it drives like nothing else you can buy today. Everyone smiles when they see it. They physically point & smile. Some days, I have to get in the right mood to drive it – because I know that a series of social interactions will occur & I need to be in the mood for that, you know?

“Mechanical things that are well-built & well-designed are conceived by the same ingenuity that should also inspire great brand design. ”

Like an old house, it’s never going to be ever fully “finished”. But those lengthy shop visits were made in between design projects, or at time where I need to step away from the computer to connect with something mechanical. Mechanical things that are well-built & well-designed are conceived by the same ingenuity that should also inspire great brand design. We removed unnecessary things from the car, such as the ugly bumpers or the little thing on the dash that lights up & says “put down your cigarette & put on your seatbelt” (paraphrasing). I don’t NEED those things. I just want the lightweight, no nonsense driving experience that brings joy to me and others.

When your creative project receives the same care & enthusiasm from us as did this car project, you’ll end up with a lightweight, agile, common sense approach into your customer’s hearts & the experience that they ultimately desire.

Those bumpers, though….