We Thought You Were A Hot Guy

Recently, I went to an estate sale in my neighborhood. Nobody was sitting outside as I pulled into the driveway but I noticed movement behind one of the curtained windows. I was just ready to get out of the car when my cell rang, so I closed my car door and took the call. I was still at the end of the driveway but had pulled to the side in case someone else came along. While I was sitting in my car talking on the phone I kept noticing movement behind the curtain. And it had spread! Now, three windows were occupied and they all were staring at me. I finished up my call and got out of the car and headed up to the carport where some of the estate items were set out. I was looking over the table when the door to the carport opened and three heads were staring straight at me! "See, I told you," one of them said with obvious disappointment. "Well, I wasn't sure," said the other. The third one looked at me and saw my quizzical look and said this: "When you pulled up in that red Mustang we thought you were a hot guy!"

Car Trouble...Part I

I like to think that I know a little something about cars. …I like to think that anyway. Mom and I were out loaferin’ (riding around) in the Mustang the other night when my engine started shuddering as I was going up a hill. Uh, oh! Crap! Shit! Is there anything worse than car trouble? “Sounds like it’s missing,” Mom said. It did sound like that, but it only seemed to shimmy and shake when it was going into or coming out of overdrive. “I hope it’s not the transmission,” I replied. My friend had just had her transmission replaced at a cost of 4500 bucks and there was no way in the world that I wanted to spend that kind of money. And these days, who has that kind of money anyway. I hate car problems. I know I already said this, but is there anything worse than car trouble? I dropped Mom off and headed back home hoping that the Mustang would make it home. “Want me to follow you home?” she asked. “Nah, I’ll be okay. She’s never left me stranded yet.” I was going to go to the local service station early in the morning; it’s where I usually get my oil changed. They don’t do extensive repairs but are pretty good at trouble shooting and would be able to point me in the right direction if major repairs are needed…

What Color Is That?

I had to take an unexpected short road trip this weekend to meet my sister halfway to drop my niece off so she could go back home after spending a few weeks with her Grandma. After the exchange Mom and I decided that we would take the long way back home and ended up in Somerset, Kentucky on the fourth Saturday of the month. If you live anywhere within a 200 mile radius of Somerset you know that's the night they have a Cruise-in. Every old car from a Model T to a '57 Chevy to a '65 Mustang all the way up to souped up Monte Carlos and imitation Gravediggers were not only on display but were cruising up and down Highway 27. Luckily, we had driven my super cool and hot-looking dark red mustang and before you knew it we were cruising with all of the other hot rods. If you've never had a Mustang then you probably didn't know that everybody, all the time, wants to see what your car can do. It kinda gets old when 16-year-old pimply faced boys in 4-cylinder Civics want to take on the MA Fat Woman in her sexy red car. Give it up! You will not beat me in a zero to 60 burst of speed and you will be eating my dust. There is a specific reason that I wanted to go to Somerset and that's because it has the most southern Gold Star Chili restaurant. If you're not from the Cincinnati area then you don't know what I'm referring to. If you're from there then you know that you'll do most anything to get your chili fix. Different parts of the country all have specific foods that the locals just can't live without, even when they move away. My addiction just so happens to be a 3-way spaghetti and a cheese coney, no onions and mustard, of course. Anyhow, after we had enjoyed our meal we decided that we would get an ice cream to help settle our stomachs. See, there's two thing about Cincinnati style chili: You always gets stains on your shirt from eating it and you usually have a small case of heartburn, or maybe a belch or two to let out. We found us an outside bench to eat our ice cream and continued to watch the cars go past, admiring the different models and varied colors. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as a '55 or '56 model Chevy drove past. I didn't really know what color it was. I looked at Mom and said "What color is that?" "Titty pink!" she said. "What?" "It's titty pink," she said. "At least that's what we used to call it back in the '50s."