SPOILIN’ THE BROTH
Neighbor Grover sez he sometimes wonders whatever happened to the people who asked him for directions.
Got to thinking the other day about the various vehicles I’ve owned over time. I think most men do that. I’ve had some favorites and some not-so favorites, as you probably have.
My first “new” car was a 1957 Chevrolet Bellaire 2-door hardtop, dark yellow bottom, white top. As you know, it remains a classic.
First trip out of town, I drove it to Port Arthur in the summer of 1957 to work a three-month hitch as a journalism “intern” on the Port Arthur News. It was the summer before my senior year in college.
Just outside of that city, a drunk almost sideswiped me but my “lightning-quick reflexes” (i.e. scared-silly reaction) avoided everything but a tiny ding on a strip of chrome on one of those classic rear-fin quarter panels.
We both stopped. This guy staggered out of his car, smelling of potent spirits, and offered to straighten out the ding if I’d bring it to his house “tomorrow.” I said sure, I’d be there at sunup and drove off. Wore that tiny ding like a medal for the years I kept it.
Then, called up with the 49th Armored Division in 1961, I deducted that, with a wife and one-year-old red-headed daughter in tow, I needed more economy.
So I traded that classic-to-be ‘57 Chevy in for a 1961 Ford Falcon 2-door, 6-cylinder station wagon. Worst car deal ever made by anyone in a civilized nation.
The Falcon was a stick shift. Wife Pegaroo never forgave me for that.
I still have visions of the sales force at the Ford dealership back then looking at that gleaming ‘57 I traded in and splitting their sides laughing at one stupid college boy.
—bc—
Shared my shameful car deal via email with retired journalist/PR guy/friend Bob Taylor up in Washington State. He admitted to a similar misdeed. He wrote:
“I beat you on the car deal. A banker told me before we reported to Fort Polk to sell my 1957 Ford coupe but I didn’t. It started having all kinds of troubles and I traded it to a ‘buddy’ for his 1949 Ford coupe.
“First trip home to Fort Worth I couldn’t get over 45 mph or the front end started shaking and the floorboard turned out to be rusted through. On my $150 a month I replaced tie rods and everything else I could and still couldn’t fix it.
“Friends in the platoon couldn’t figure out who screwed the other the most.”
Bob added “lol.” That’s about all we can do when we recall our colossal lapses in judgment.
—bc—
Okay, the message-of-the-week, according to a social media post the other day, was on a big sign outside an Austin restaurant and went like this:
“Teachers should not have to pay for their own school supplies, or their own wine.”
How true.
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