Why this project?

The first car I ever bought was a 1964 Chrysler Newport. It was a strange car for a 16-year-old in 1996, but it was amazing. The smell of the interior. The feeling of that big block 361 cubic inch wedge V8. The satisfying “clunk” when pushing the buttons to change the gear. The “Forward Look” years at Chrysler design led to space-age choices like pushbutton gear selections on their automatic transmissions, as well as futuristic styling and gauges that glowed green. That car met an unfortunate demise when a guy swerved to miss someone who ran a stop sign, and he caved in the rear quarter panel. I think my beautiful tank became a demolition derby car after that.

As some may know, I started working on Essbase 20 years ago. As an Essbase administrator, I loved to automate much of my tasks, even using Hyperion Application Link (HAL) to alert me when new files appeared to be loaded during month-end. As the build phase wound down and I moved into support and maintenance, I found time on my hands during the workday. My love of old cars and lack of knowledge about them led me to an internet forum for hot-rodding misfits who pride themselves on upholding the tradition of hot rods and custom cars – as long as they are pre-1964. You see, 1964 was the birth year of the Mustang, and the years that followed became the muscle car era. These hooligans did not mess around with muscle cars, nor VW bugs, but that’s a different story.

I tried to restore old cars over the years. I bought a 1964 Chrysler Newport convertible with the intention of restoration, but that project was much bigger than I was able to tackle at the time. My next project was a 1951 Plymouth Cambridge. My goal was to chop the top and change the suspension using airbags to get it low. My Mopar (Dodge, Chrysler, Plymouth) habit kept me choosing odd cars that really didn’t have any support in the aftermarket, so I ended up learning how to fabricate and weld. I started with floor pans on the Newport convertible and eventually moved on to welding the top of the Plymouth.

Unfortunately, the Plymouth project eventually stalled and I gave up. Around this time, I started working as a consultant. My wife and I decided that we should move closer to a major airport to make my work travel easier and we settled on the Dallas/Fort Worth area. With an impending move and sale of our home in small town Iowa, I pretty much gave my car project away and had an auction to sell off most of my other car parts.

That house listing came around the time the entire housing market collapsed. Our house was listed for over a year. Without a project car, I started to get restless and needed some outlet. I needed another project, but I was going to finish this one. I wanted something a little easier that didn’t need to be as nice as a custom car. That led me to build a hot rod. It could be a little rough around the edges since that just adds to the character. I didn’t want to mess with chopping a top again, so that led me to looking at roadsters. In January of 2012, I bought a Moleskine journal and started documenting the process just to have an outlet for the things that were in my brain. I sketched what I thought the end result might look like and how I wanted to set up my suspension.

And so, it begins…

At this point, I had two daughters and was expecting to move to Texas, so I couldn’t really make any major purchases unless they were a great deal. Before the move, I acquired a full 1940 Ford front suspension: axle, spindles, brakes, drums, wishbone, and front spring. This is a lot of components for $275 and quite a steal. Then, I needed a frame for whatever car I decided to build, so I bought 24 feet of rectangular steel tubing in Iowa as well shortly before the move.

Of course, the house was finally sold and we moved to Texas around August of 2012. By this point, I had pretty much settled on a 1926-1927 Model T roadster. If you know hot rods, you know that 1932 through 1934 Fords are very desirable, but you have to pay to play with those. Model As are nice, but I didn’t like the 1928-29 cowl and I figured a 1930-31 A would be out of my price range. Model Ts aren’t the most likely selection for a hot rod, but there were a few of them in the 1950s and 60s.

Then came the new homeowner stuff. Painting, setting up kids’ rooms, and getting settled in. In April of 2013, I went to a large swap meet hoping to find a fiberglass body. I walked about 7 miles that day up and down the rows and found my body – an original steel roadster in rough shape. Missing part of the subframe that the body attaches to, minus one door, and plenty of rust. But, I am thrifty and the asking price was $500. After agreeing to $350, I loaded the body onto my trailer and headed home.

This body is obviously very rusty and I am missing some critical components. I took the body completely apart panel by panel so that I could do rust removal via electrolysis. In the mean time, I bought some lumber to build a rudimentary frame table and began work on laying out my frame. In 2013, I found another body in South Dakota on eBay that had nice doors and a solid bottom half, but the top was beat up – the opposite of my body. So, I rented a Dodge Caravan with the fold-flat seats and drove to fetch that body.

During the frame build, I found a 1966 Dodge 361 cubic inch big block for sale in Oklahoma. This is the same type of engine that I had in my first car. I was able to grab that as well as a 1963 push button automatic from Dallas. I found a 1969 Roadrunner rear axle that had a 3.23 gear ratio in it and found some rear brakes from a guy who lives close. I bought an original driveshaft on eBay that I had to cut apart and shorten as well as many shipments from Speedway Motors and Summit Racing.

Eventually, I had pieced together something that looked like a car. I drove it around the neighborhood a couple of times to get a feel for it, but there were some issues to be fixed. I had to get a different torque converter for the transmission as it didn’t drive correctly which required buying a later parts transmission and swapping out the input shaft. The three Holley 94 carburetors made the engine way too rich, so I switched to a four-barrel carb to make things easier. At this time, I decided to paint the car, so it all came apart in 2021.

I primed the car and started body work in my garage which is messy business. There was a family who moved out down the block and set their leather loveseat on the curb that had been clawed by their cats. That couch made its way into my garage and was skinned and put away until I was ready for the interior. Once the body was almost done in primer, I realized that trying to perfect this 100 year old body and paint it shiny would take a long time, so epoxy primer as a topcoat is what I chose.

I casually would check out Facebook Marketplace hoping for a deal on an upholstery sewing machine and found an amazing deal a couple of hours away. I grabbed cash and came back with an Adler walking foot sewing machine which is an industrial machine great for sewing leather and other thick fabrics. Around January, I had the body back together and wired again and decided to work on the upholstery. It was a steep learning curve, but the upholstery came out good enough for this old buggy.

So, over 13 years after my original idea began, I now officially have a running and driving 1960s inspired hot rod. This is the longest project I have ever tackled and without the patience of my wife and family it would not have been possible.

Oddly enough, the lessons I learned turning wrenches in the garage kind of map to how I approach Oracle EPM projects.

1. It All Starts With a Clear Vision

Every successful EPM implementation begins the same way a successful car build does: with a vision.

When I started my roadster, I knew what I wanted the end state to look like. Not just cosmetically, but mechanically, structurally, and emotionally. I could see the car finished, even on days when it was nothing more than a bare frame. And of course, as any true car builder will tell you, I sat in it and made car noises every chance I got.

EPM projects require that same clarity. I like to start withe end in mind. This helps us make sure we are building the necessary features to enable that reporting or dashboard that is the end result. A well-defined future-state with data flows, integrations, and user experience, all baked in is what keeps the team aligned. Without it, both cars and projects drift into scope creep, wasted effort, and frustration.

2. Budgeting: Reality Meets the Ideal

Anyone who’s ever built a custom car knows the truth: You will spend more than you expect.

Not because of mismanagement, but because as you get deeper into the process, you see opportunities to improve things you hadn’t originally considered. The same is true in EPM.

Budgeting is about:

• identifying what’s essential,
• understanding what’s optional,
• and planning for the unexpected.

Sometimes, that chrome windshield that you originally didn’t want starts to make sense when you see the features that it provides. And, while you’ve got things apart, you may as well make it as nice as you can. I’m sure EPM practitioners can relate to that in their projects.

3. Change Management Matters, In the Garage and in the Office

When you work on a car for over a decade, technology evolves. Parts that didn’t exist when I started became the new standard, like the electric parking brake I installed after seeing how nice the one is in my wife’s Honda. I can’t say that my vision changed but, I changed as time went along.

To avoid rework, you must learn to communicate and adapt.

Change management in EPM projects isn’t just formal documentation; it’s helping stakeholders understand why changes are needed, how they support the long-term vision, and what the impacts will be. Sometimes that involves moving the budget a little. Sometimes it means that users might need to change their business process a little.

Whether it’s a new parking brake system or a redesigned planning process, people need time and clarity to adjust.

4. Resource Constraints Are Real

My hot rod project had two ever-present constraints:

Time – The hours you want to spend are never the hours you actually have.
Ability – Some tasks stretch your skills; sometimes you have to learn a lot before you can even begin to develop a skill.

Oracle EPM projects follow the same pattern. Teams juggle:

• competing priorities
• limited SME availability
• skill gaps
• integration dependencies

You don’t succeed by pretending constraints don’t exist. Teams can succeed by planning for those constraints and setting the schedule around them.

5. Waiting for the Right Tools

I had the leather from that roadside couch for over two years before I found the right deal on the right sewing machine. Sometimes waiting is the smartest move; forcing progress with the wrong tools usually leads to expensive cleanup. My wife’s Project Runway household sewing machine wasn’t going to cut it when sewing through up to four layers of leather.

EPM programs experience similar bottlenecks:

• waiting for upstream system modernization
• waiting for data governance decisions
• waiting for cloud capabilities to mature
• waiting for internal skill development

Patience isn’t the opposite of progress. Sometimes it is progress.

6. Agility: Adjusting Priorities Without Losing the End State

When you’re 13 years into any project, life happens. Family, work, budget shifts, and other priorities interrupt even the best-laid plans. What kept the project moving forward was the ability to adjust short-term priorities while keeping the long-term vision intact. That’s textbook agile thinking.

In any project, we should focus on:

• breaking down the vision into flexible increments,
• delivering value continuously,
• and being ready to pivot without compromising the destination.

Agility keeps the journey alive.

7. Sticking With It: The Power of Completion

There’s nothing like turning the key on a car you built with your own hands. I drove around just today checking some rear suspension changes and clocked mile number 35. The sound, the vibration, the smells; it’s deeply rewarding.

But the moment that surprised me most? The reactions from people on the road. The thumbs up. The smiles. The nods of approval.

That feedback loop makes every late night, busted knuckle, and sliced hand feel worthwhile.

EPM projects are no different. When users finally experience the system with faster reporting, cleaner data, and simpler processes, their satisfaction validates the effort. Their reactions are the equivalent of those thumbs up on the highway.

It reminds you that completion isn’t just a milestone. It’s a celebration. And just maybe, that completion doesn’t mean that it’s actually done, it could just be Phase 1.