Wiring-the mere mention of the subject brings chills to the spines of most do-it-yourself rodders. For many, it's part of the sacred trio of chores left to hired guns-paint, upholstery, and wiring. But for those willing to do some research, practice a bit of trial and error, and spend the time and effort required, any of these chores can be (and often are) completed by those of us with at least a modicum of technical know-how.

The 1949-51 Mercury is the quintessential custom car. Thousands of them have gone under the knife in the last five decades, so it's a little surprising to discover how little aftermarket support there is for these beloved 'sleds. It's a particularly disheartening discovery if you happen to be building your own dream Merc.

When Chip Foose and Wes Rydell get together on a custom project, step back and watch out. The results are bound to be spectacular.

Whether you're attempting your first build or your 20th, one key to maintaining sanity is finding a balance between what you can afford and the desire to use top-quality parts. Fortunately, the hot rod aftermarket continues to develop quality parts to help us improve our cars, and magazines like Custom Rodder keep the information coming so we can make educated purchases. Better still, the aftermarket remains small enough that hobbyists like us can give manufacturers feedback on what worked and what didn't, and offer suggestions for new options or products. Successful manufactures use such feedback to continually upgrade and expand their product lines. One such manufacturer that has arguably done this well, all while delivering quality and affordability, is Fatman Fabrications.

When Derek Dejonge became the caretaker of his father's mildly customized '50 Olds 88 fastback, he knew he was being handed the keys to a cool ride. What he didn't expect was the crash course in modified suspensions he would receive.

Laundry, lawn mowing, taking out the trash, and picking up my room-all things I love not doing. In the grand scheme of things, though, ever since I was old enough to realize that I couldn't care less for those chores, the female role model in my life has constantly reminded me how necessary they are. And as we all know, Mother's always right, right?

As American automakers clamored to turn out new car designs following World War II, a number of prewar construction techniques lingered, particularly on lower-priced makes and models. One was the practice of stamping hoods in two pieces and welding them together in the center. The resulting seams were typically covered by trim, ornaments, and emblems.

A custom tiller with a secretMost of us are well aware that if a determined thief really wants a car, he can figure out a way to get it. Yet we also realize that many car thefts are crimes of opportunity, and if we make it more difficult to steal our cars, we're less likely to loose them. That's the thinking behind most security systems on the market

Any enthusiast who owns the same custom car for a significant length of time is bound to refine it as he goes along. He builds the car, drives it, determines its strengths and weaknesses, and, ideally, makes tweaks to improve it through the years.

There have been hundreds, perhaps thousands, of different taillights adapted to the quarter-panels of custom '49-51 Mercurys through the years. Some designs are natural fits; others aren't so memorable. Selecting the right style can make or break the appeal of a custom's posterior.

Every project has to start somewhere, and mine usually begin at the bottom-with the suspension and brakes. I'd like to say it's because I approach car projects logically by stripping them down to bare frames and rebuilding them from the ground up, but that's not really the case. I'm not nearly so rational.

If you've been paying attention to the last few issues of Custom Rodder, you may recognize this '53 Pontiac from tech stories where we installed a Fatman front frame stub and chopped the Poncho's roof. To keep the progress flowing in the right direction, it's time to put some similar thought and energy into the rearend and how to get the best possible ride, handling, and stance.

The 1949-51 Mercury is the quintessential custom car. Thousands of them have gone under the knife in the last five decades, so it's a little surprising to discover how little aftermarket support there is for these beloved 'sleds. It's a particularly disheartening discovery if you happen to be building your own dream Merc.

We like to preach about building offbeat cars here at Custom Rodder, but we must admit there's something to be said for following a more mainstream path. The most obvious benefit is the wide availability of proven bolt-on aftermarket components that can minimize fabrication and make the car-building process much simpler. Better still, many such products can make these popular cars much more enjoyable to drive.

Sometimes it's hard to believe that '50s and '60s cars remain as popular as they are in 2005. It's even more amazing to imagine how many are still being found in barns, fields, and the occasional car lot just waiting for enthusiasts to bring them back to life.

Of all the chores associated with modified car maintenance, one of the most neglected could well be frontend alignment. It's one of those things that none of us pay much attention to--that is, until the car seems to have a mind of its own and wanders all over the road or the tires develop a funny wear pattern and the corners of the treads are knocked off.

Today's top customs and street rods arguably wear more scratch-built parts than ever. From custom frames to hand-hammered bodies, many go beyond the realm of mere "customs" or "rods" to become handcrafted, coachbuilt creations.

In the beginning (well, many, many years ago, anyway) there was the Jaguar independent rear suspension. It was considered high tech before the term was ever applied to rods and customs. Next came the Corvette IRS, which soon became equally sought after by car builders seeking great handling and cornering ability, not to mention rod run bragging rights.

When I drive a car, any car, I like things relatively quiet. I like to go straight. I like to stop within reason. I especially like it when the engine responds to the throttle appropriately. This is nothing beyond the reason of a typical driver. Now, with older cars, I particularly like to cruise on the highway without revving rpms to the extent that the stereo is drowned out (granted there is a stereo to begin with!) with excessive exhaust notes. With most early drivetrains, well, that's pretty impossible. Even with some of your modern 350/350 transplants, the rearend gearing is so low that the situation is nearly the same as with the stock setup! Sure, swapping out the ring-and-pinion for a taller set will give you a bit more highway elbow room, but you'll sacrifice low end in doing so (how much is all dependent on how big a jump you take in gearing). For those who like the way their car performs around town but would really like to keep up with the flow of traffic on the freeway without sounding like you're going to spin a main bearing, there is a solution, and it's not the option many of you are thinking of.

The new-model-year blues have hit more than a few car buyers when they came to realize their car wasn't the latest and greatest anymore. It's a dilemma that has been going on since the beginning of automotive time, and one that has always helped sell new cars. This was particularly true in the '50s and '60s, when model year changes were much more significant than they are now.

It's no secret that custom car enthusiasts often ignore the design advice that suggests form should follow function. We snub practicality in our quest for style, and sometimes even eschew simple safety measures to score cool points.

Save for your bigger custom shops--and those phony TV shows we all love to watch--finishing a chopped car of pretty much any type is no easy task ... and I'm not even talking about the roof chop itself! Anyone who has ever dealt with trying to get a curved windshield cut down knows what I'm talking about. From there, things don't really get a whole lot easier until the cabin of your car is completely sealed from the elements--that means a backlight (and not necessarily the stock unit, as the tempered glass is near impossible to cut), quarter windows, and door glass that actually rolls up and down. Most would rather pull out their Sawzall and MIG welder than have to deal with modifying and installing glass in a chopped car, but if you want to truly say it's finished, ya gotta do it!

When you first started daydreaming about your custom car project, chances are you gave little (if any) thought to the brackets and pulleys you'd use on the engine. Heck, you probably only gave the subject passing consideration when you selected a powerplant for your cruiser. Like so many details surrounding any automotive revival, brackets and pulleys barely register on the radar, at least until you realize you need them, or need different ones than those you have.

Mid-century Chevys have been popular with the custom crowd ever since the first '49 models rolled off the assembly line. They were the basis for some of the most memorable customs of the '50s, including the Moonglow, La Jolla, and Larry Earnst cars, to name just a few. Back then, it's safe to say their popularity was eclipsed only by that of '49-51 Mercs and Fords.

Some of you faithful Custom Rodder and Customrodder.com readers may remember my '63 Ford Galaxie project from the not-so-distant past. You might also recall the car starting out as a fairly blank canvas sporting a set of 14-inch American "Daisy" five-spoke wheels and stock ride height. With fairly nice paint, a straight body, a good-running 390 V-8, and recently re-plated bumpers, the car had plenty of potential. Once we mounted the 18-inch Billet Specialties Chicayne wheels and the set of lowering springs, along with a few other bolt-on modifications, it really came to life with a nice stance and plenty of attitude.