Guess everbody cruised
McD burgers were 19 cents
Tasted like shit, but easy on the funds when dating
Actually, never really ‘dated’
Just went out….hooked up
'cept for a few times
I put this in a thread of mine a couple years ago;
Lindsey
From months of bucking hay and picking berries, beans, and whatever I could get hold of, at 14 I bought a car.
My first.
’54 Chevy
$300
When you save your money in a cigar box for several months, taking it out, counting, fondling, stacking, fanning it out like a hand of gin rummy, then putting it back under the bed, w-a-a-a-a-y under, and you make a major purchase, your object of worship is gone…gone I say…just an empty cigar box with only the faint scent of cheap cigars and a hint of the smell of soft currency once soaked in the sweat of your front Levi pocket.
There are few words to describe the emptiness.
Maybe ‘bereft’.
I’d had this same experience at 12, getting my 30-30, but $79.50 from Western Auto was not the same as giving over a summer of work in one fell swoop.
The following summer I got a job hoeing roses for a famous, prize winning rosegrower that had several acres of (you guessed it) roses at the end of a gravelroad on top of the hill we lived on.
So, before sunup I’d make myself lunch, make coffee for the thermos and breakfast, fire up the green hornet and bomb up the hill, taking switch back after switchback…. sideways.
Then proceed to get ahead start on a degenerative back by hoeing roses for 10 hours.
One Friday I’d gotten a call from a pretty little girl that I’d met.
Not as beautiful as my lady now, but beyond cute…really really cute, even pretty….her smile did funny things to my heart.
So Sunday I approached dad.
‘Hey, ol’ man. I wanna go to church with this girl.’
‘Well, what’s stoppin’ ya?’
‘She lives on the other side of Portland.’
‘You want me to drive you to the other side of Portland?!’
‘Uh, no.
I’d like to drive my car.’
(Mom)
‘ABSOLUTELY NOT!!!’
‘I’d be careful.’
‘And, (the coupe de grace) can I borrow grampa’s bible?’
‘You better be careful, cause if you get in an accident, they’re comin’ after me.’
‘Thanksdadbye.’
Mom said something, rather sputtered something, but I was already bombin’ down the drive.
Can’t recall the jaunt over the St Johns Bridge or the rest of the twenty miles.
Lindsey jumped in and we headed down the country lane to a park.
On the way, she was all over me.
I gave a thought to just pull over into the ditch, but maintained my James Bond nonchalant approach and returned her kisses, French kisses,
my first,
in my car,
driving,
For some reason, even beyond the control of my crotch, my mind relished in the sensation of tongue wrestling with this lovely being, and not on keeping in my lane…or on the road even.
It wouldn’t have mattered much to look where I was goin’ because my eyeballs were rolled back in my head.
Then a funny thing happened.
Somewhere deep in my semi consciousness, I heard trumpets blowing.
(So this is what Brad was telling me about…)
But while trying to gather my fuzzy thoughts, I had a flash back of a song that was getting popular….Leader of the Pack had a girl yelling ‘LOOK OUT, LOOK OUT,LOOK OUT!!’, then screeching tires.
Only it was Lindsey yelling, and the trumpet was a car horn, and the tires were those of the car in front of us.
I just remember two old couples, dressed for church, mouths open, arms waving.
I swerved.
Our rear quarter panels met.
Hard.
A sickening crunch.
My rear view mirror revealed them just sittin’ there in the middle of the road…sideways….gettin’ smaller and smaller as I floored the little chevy.
Lindsey didn’t say much when I dropped her off, but a few days later I got a letter.
My first.
I drove into the drive and parked behind the garage.
My story was that there was black ice on a corner and I slid into the guardrail.
He bought it.
I sweated blood for weeks after that, waiting for cops to haul my dad off in hand cuffs…leaving me with mom.
It never happened, but every time I got in my car, I got a little sick to my stomach.
I told him the real story three decades later.
We both had a good laugh over it.
Together.
Not at each other, but with each other.
My first.
