And what country can preserve its liberties if their rulers are not warned from time to time that their people preserve the spirit of resistance? Let them take arms. The remedy is to set them right as to facts, pardon and pacify them. What signify a few lives lost in a century or two? The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants.
My parents would take us to the dealership to try on cars, just to make sure we'd all fit. Backward facing rear seats, inward facing rear seats, no rear seat, we worked our way through them all. Someone eventually figured out that the exhaust got sucked into the car when the rear station window was open. That led to a spoiler on the luggage rack to push air down from the top and mitigate the exhaust problem.
Dad had traded in der two tone convertible Chrysler himself an herself would go merrymaking. There was children now. Betsy, our '61 Dart stationwagon, with the fold down rear seat and electric roll down back window.
We crossed the country no less than five times in her. Crossing the mile deep Rio Grande in north New Mexico. California to Illinois and Michigan via the Green and Snake rivers. Seeing the glow of Las Vegas across the empty night desert a-glow like an H bomb. A hundred miles away.
Snaking down Oak Creek Canyon. At night. In a blizzard. Burnt tracks of rubber leading over the rail. Guard rail missing. Ron, slow down!, sez mom. A blind corner, a cow in the road. What is this, a macabre Plato's allegory?
Snowball fights in Flagstaff and Albuquerque. Again at Gallup where stood honest to God indians with foot long cigars and rock candy that looked liked honest to God gravel.
Lake Superior to Key West to Nawlens to Odessa to Salt Lake, we been everywhere, man. Tonapah to Topeka to Tallahassie, Tucson to San Antone. The interstates are only numbers to a new memory. Corpuscle Christi, no thanks, once in a lifetime is enough. Honest to God foot long shrimp at Biloxi, water as clear as mud.
Older brother bought her for $300 from the 'rents. Rebuilt the 318 engine that summer with 300,000+ miles on her in his jr year of high school. That began a near chapter. With the fold down rear seat, she became a fortress bristling in the pressurised water fire extinguisher wars of our youth after Friday night games. We won. We always won.
Betsy was carried to an unmarked grave when brother marched off to university. Or maybe it was some SoCal surfer made her his home.
Us children lying down in the back, our heads 'neath the rolled down rear window. M'God, have you ever seen so deep into the universe. All the while dad gazed at the sometimes visible white line of a hoop de doo highway. They didn't carve the land in those days; they laid a ribbon of asphalt across the hill and the dale. From eastern CA to NE.
Grilled steaks at the pull out. Anywhere you pulled off the road was the pull out. Sandy pines of the Keys or the shadows of a western butte, here is the place. The towering redwoods and the shivered twisting mesquite cane later.
Life as we lived - And Survived - it!
ReplyDeleteSigned: Old Enough to Remember
We had a little 5 lb, brindle Chihuahua. She was a sweetie. She couldn't drive, though.
ReplyDeleteFun times.
ReplyDeleteHad me a '56 Ford 2-Dr sedan. It was a nice vehicle.
ReplyDeleteA car full of kids. Having 5 brothers and 2 sisters I recall rides like that often.
ReplyDeleteMom & Dad had ten of us and packed us into an old Ford country squire sw.
DeleteReminds me of the old song, "Seven little girls, sitting in the back seat, kissing and a hugging with Fred (the dog).
ReplyDeleteMy parents would take us to the dealership to try on cars, just to make sure we'd all fit. Backward facing rear seats, inward facing rear seats, no rear seat, we worked our way through them all. Someone eventually figured out that the exhaust got sucked into the car when the rear station window was open. That led to a spoiler on the luggage rack to push air down from the top and mitigate the exhaust problem.
ReplyDeleteDad had traded in der two tone convertible Chrysler himself an herself would go merrymaking.
ReplyDeleteThere was children now.
Betsy, our '61 Dart stationwagon, with the fold down rear seat and electric roll down back window.
We crossed the country no less than five times in her. Crossing the mile deep Rio Grande in north New Mexico. California to Illinois and Michigan via the Green and Snake rivers. Seeing the glow of Las Vegas across the empty night desert a-glow like an H bomb. A hundred miles away.
Snaking down Oak Creek Canyon. At night. In a blizzard. Burnt tracks of rubber leading over the rail. Guard rail missing. Ron, slow down!, sez mom. A blind corner, a cow in the road. What is this, a macabre Plato's allegory?
Snowball fights in Flagstaff and Albuquerque. Again at Gallup where stood honest to God indians with foot long cigars and rock candy that looked liked honest to God gravel.
Lake Superior to Key West to Nawlens to Odessa to Salt Lake, we been everywhere, man. Tonapah to Topeka to Tallahassie, Tucson to San Antone. The interstates are only numbers to a new memory. Corpuscle Christi, no thanks, once in a lifetime is enough. Honest to God foot long shrimp at Biloxi, water as clear as mud.
Older brother bought her for $300 from the 'rents. Rebuilt the 318 engine that summer with 300,000+ miles on her in his jr year of high school. That began a near chapter. With the fold down rear seat, she became a fortress bristling in the pressurised water fire extinguisher wars of our youth after Friday night games. We won. We always won.
Betsy was carried to an unmarked grave when brother marched off to university. Or maybe it was some SoCal surfer made her his home.
We saw America. She's grand.
Us children lying down in the back, our heads 'neath the rolled down rear window. M'God, have you ever seen so deep into the universe. All the while dad gazed at the sometimes visible white line of a hoop de doo highway. They didn't carve the land in those days; they laid a ribbon of asphalt across the hill and the dale. From eastern CA to NE.
DeleteGrilled steaks at the pull out. Anywhere you pulled off the road was the pull out. Sandy pines of the Keys or the shadows of a western butte, here is the place. The towering redwoods and the shivered twisting mesquite cane later.
Housewives of that era voted TV the best invention of the century.
ReplyDeleteIt was tied with The Pill.