It's one of our traditions.
We watch "It's a Wonderful Life" during our Holidays.
And Donna Reed, (she misspelled her name) is certainly "Eye candy".
I hope your day is as satisfying as ours.
26 November 2020
25 November 2020
21 November 2020
18 November 2020
15 November 2020
WSF's comment to the post immediately below sparked a memory:
I was headed home on leave before departing for Viet Nam, driving my '68 Olds 442, (Oldsmobile's version of the Pontiac GTO platform) on Interstate 65 between Louisville and Indianapolis.
Thinking about what the future held- FM radio blasting; dress uniform complete with medals and badges hanging on the hook behind the driver's seat.
And that was when the Plymouth GTX pulled alongside.
He looked my way. I looked his. And right feet hit the firewalls.
The big number on my 442's speedo was 120. But there was then a gap of about half an inch where the speedometer needle could continue it's journey.
I figure I was going about 130 when acceleration on my car really began to die off, and I watched as the big GTX showed me its ass.
I backed out of the throttle with a smile, wondering what engine that Dude had under the hood... 440? 426?
A few miles down the road the red flashing lights came on in my rearview mirror... Indiana State Police.
I pulled onto the right shoulder and wondered how much trouble I was in.
"License and registration, please sir."
He went back to his car. Most of ya know the situation.
He came back to my door and asked, "Where ya going, Lieutenant?"
He had noticed my uniform. I told him-
"Viet Nam. I just finished flight school. I'll be flying helicopters there in a month."
He lifted his ticket pad and wrote a few lines.
"I clocked you at 85 in the 70 back there. I'm gonna write you a warning."
Odd smile on his face.
He knew better. I knew better. He knew that I knew better.
"I have a son in the infantry over there right now.
YOU SLOW THIS DAMN THING DOWN, Lieutenant!"
And as he turned to walk away he momentarily turned back and asked,
"How bad did he beat ya?"
But he didn't wait for an answer.
14 November 2020
The GM/Ford/Chrysler horsepower race started in the early '60's.
"She's real fine my 409".
"....But parked in her rickety old garage is a brand-new, shiny red, Super Stock Dodge!"
"Hey little Cobra, don't ya know you're gonna shut 'em down?!"
Insurance companies had not yet awakened. Premium gasoline was $.35 per gallon.
And they drank it to the tune of 13 mpg, IF you were careful with your right foot.
But WOW... the sound! The feeling of being pressed into the seat.
Cars like the one in the video, (with just slightly less power), could be purchased at our local dealership.
Want a sense of that sound and fury?
Watch the video:
06 November 2020
Am I different than everyone else?
When I am bored with the computer on my lap I poke around and check on people that once were important in my life...
High School class and schoolmates.
And ex wives.
I was doing that today. There are several old girlfriends I would LOVE to know what has happened in their lives since I last heard from them.
I've found a few.
Too few. The search goes on.
I've had two wives.
I cheated on the first and she didn't take kindly to that.
My second wife is wonderful... treats me like a King. After divorcing "the second-best wife I ever had" I was gunshy about remarrying and lived with my present wife 10 years before I finally figured out I wanted to keep her. My present wife resented the second-best wife I ever had BIGLY because of that.
Today I was bored and started doing what I always do when I'm bored.
I surfed around trying to find lost people from my past. And there it was-
Her obituary. Complete with photo and long narrative about what a dynamo she was.
She was a teacher. I have no doubt she was a damned good one. Some of the condolence notes rave about her.
I paid for her Master's degree in education. I'm glad my money improved our world.
It's still a gut punch.
Divorce is generally ugly. Ours certainly was.
I couldn't realize at the time that she was doing me a great favor.
And I'm oddly sad.
02 November 2020
In 1948 my parents purchased a little home South of Indianapolis, Indiana.
It had two bedrooms and one bath, on a 1/4 acre lot.
Dad worked an 8 to 5 job.
Mom was a homemaker. She saw us off to school, and was home when we got off the school bus.
By today's standards, to say our home was "modest" would be understatement.
But our family never lacked essentials. We never went hungry. Dad would come home and read the conservative and liberal Indy newspapers until Mom had food on the table.
Then we would all gather and eat together.
What a concept.
Today's kids want the "3-bdrm, 2-1/2 bath" as their "starter" home.
That requires two wage earners if they're lucky.
Dad might have to work two jobs... maybe Mom too.
And that reality may bring a Nanny into the picture.
Is this "improvement"?
When we look around at the overall mental health of our Nation, are we happy with what we see?
If they're broadcast in your area, take a look at "Leave It To Beaver" reruns, but put Mrs. Cleaver in a housecoat or simple cotton dress and try to imagine the world I grew up in.
I know... it's nearly impossible.