SPOILIN’ THE BROTH
Neighbor Grover sez bread is like the sun; it rises in the yeast and sets in the waist.
That lousy car deal I wrote about making last week prompted a good bit of comment. I admitted to trading in a 1957 Chevrolet Bellaire 2-door hardtop destined for classic status for a 1961 Ford Falcon station wagon.
But that Falcon took our family, and also a handful of musicians, many a mile. I bought it thinking I needed economy, heading to Fort Polk, La. for a military hitch with a wife and daughter in tow.
It was a different time, pre-safety bureaucracy. No seat belts, and we traveled with daughter Kathy, who had her second birthday in Louisiana, on a pallet in the far back of that wagon. Not only were there no seat belts, there were no child safety seats.
My Fort Polk duty was soft, working on the post newspaper, but I did get dishpan hands. Because I had a journalism degree I was requisitioned to 49th Armored Division headquarters company which not only had an enlisted mess hall, but also the general’s mess. I was an Sp4, one rank too low to dodge KP (kitchen police).
With two mess halls and a company top-heavy with brass, KP often rolled around twice a week. That Falcon logged many a trip from DeRidder, where we lived, 16 miles to Fort Polk for KP, sometimes as early as 4 a.m.
I was fortunate to meet a talented pianist and a bass player early in the hitch and we formed a piano-bass-drum trio that played most Saturday nights at an officer’s club that paid us each $15 a gig.
You can fit an upright bass fiddle into a 2-door Falcon station wagon, barely. The bottom will be against the rear window and the neck up against the rear-view mirror. A set of drums will fit under the bass which rests on the top of the two bench seats. And two people can ride alongside that bass on the front bench seat, with one in the back.
Our little trio had one claim to fame. A great musician came along on a USA tour and we got to back him up three nights running, at a service club, an NCO club and the officers’ club.
The guy was a superb singer, violinist, played classical guitar and put on a tremendous show, although nobody had ever heard of him at the time.
His name was Roy Clark. He went on to fame on the TV show “Hee-Haw.” Don’t think I ever saw him play classical guitar on that show.
Back in Rockdale as a civilian, that Falcon station wagon continued to serve our family and then became The Reporter’s delivery vehicle, servicing our newsstands and chasing wrecks and fires and sporting events for years.
And it continued to haul musicians on Saturdays, a bass fiddle, drums, a trumpet and saxophone included.
Maybe it wasn’t such a bad car deal after all.
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