[David in San Antonio]

In August 2022 I registered a 1931 Deluxe Coupe. The title was from Pennsylvania and showed a serial number. The DMV insisted on seeing a VIN, not a serial number, and referred us to the county sheriff department auto theft investigator to adjudicate. He turned out to be quite knowledgeable about Model A’s including the possibility that the serial number is stamped on the frame, and obscured by the body. Also that when the car was restored in 1957 the serial number may have been sanded into oblivion. And that the engine number is not the same as the serial number of the frame. He gave it the old Texas never-say-quit effort including pulling the floorboards and searching with a flashlight on the off chance the hand-stamped serial number might be eyeballed if the body didn’t cover it. Nope.
The car had been in the seller’s family for 65 years and he showed the investigator a thick folder full of receipts and old registration papers from Pennsylvania. The inspector said he enjoyed seeing a beautiful antique, a refreshing change from the usual home-built trailers and Frankenstein specials cobbled together from several wrecks. A few sherrif’s deputies drifted out of the building to look and conversate (a Texas word) including one older, rather rotund gentleman with a gold badge. I guess he outranked the others. After a good hour of cooperative effort to locate the elusive serial number the investigator allowed that The State of Texas would accept the serial number from the Pennsylvania title, even though no one could say for certain why Pennsylvania put it on the title in the first place. But first he did enter it into the computer and was satisfied it was not stolen. Besides, the extensive documentation showing an unbroken line of ownership over 65 years with each owner having the same last name as it was passed from father to son, then to another son (the seller).
Everybody standing around, deputies, investigators, the chief-looking guy, several citizens waiting for their turn - was happily satisfied to have seen the Model A Ford that day. We took the Sheriff’s document of approval back to the DMV where the nice people there knew us on sight. We’d been there 3 times already. I left out several steps from this account which is already way too long. But if you’ve come this far, stick around. Because the DMV person realized that the Pennsylvania title didn’t document the car’s weight. No problem, I quickly found the official avoirdupois online. But nope. We had to show a certified weight. I was nearly certifiable by that time. She allowed it might could work without a weight filled in but we wouldn’t know until she submitted the paperwork to the central DMV. It probably would sail through, but it might be rejected. Ever sober and desirous of following the regulations, we drove it to a truck stop. There in return for $14 we received a certified weight affidavit. Just in case the paperwork was kicked back because it lacked a certified weight.
I was surprised that the little roadster was about 150 pounds heavier than the online guide. Turns out there was 150 pounds of spare parts in the trunk and under the seat, including a rear axle half shaft. This fit perfectly between the frame rails under the seat as if it belonged there. A few days later I received the Antique Auto license plate (rear only in the case of Antique Autos. What I learned: the Model A will train me to be patient and cheerful even in n the face of multiple frustrating steps. Or if I didn’t learn that lesson, the car would certainly break me. Just keep breathing and grinning. We celebrated by going out to lunch. And later that day we realized that someone had keyed the paint on one of the doors. Keep breathing. Don’t know if it was in the DMV parking lot, or when we were eating lunch.