Finally, rain here cleared the salt and the roads dried. So I got a chance to warm up the Mustang's fluids by taking it for its emissions test. Not exactly a fun run, on suburban surface streets that I knew would be clean, but the car hadn't been out in over three months.
The tires develop "memory" if the car sits for longer than three weeks, so the first five miles were whump-whump-whump. And, although I was going for an Italian Look when I ordered the car (red with tan leather), those initial miles reminded me of an Italian snark from 50 years ago--and made me smile.
The imported car store I worked for had an Italian mechanic who worked on the many Alfas and some Fiats that we sold. He was unimpressed with our British offerings. When a BMC car had to be pushed into the shop, which wasn't unusual in those Lucas Electrics days, he would peer out from under the hood of the Alfa he was working on and raise his voice in a sing-song chant: "...square-a wheel... bicycle-a brake... falf-a job...!" The rest if us joined in if there wasn't a customer standing at the Service Desk, who might own a British car. Good times.