if you have to load, or unload, go to the white zone...you'll love it...it's a way of life.
so...i got "apostrophe" crankin', i'm way wasted but under house-arrest (read: i'm not ridin', i'm at home and quite happy with the current state of affairs)...i'm ready to unload ("dirty love" just started LOL)...
i was born to a young couple in '57. he was an aircraft mechanic in the air-force, she was one of 7 in a tiny (but sturdy, grampa was handy) shotgun. i dunno much else about that part of the story. i have a very vague memory of riding in a turbo-prop as a tike...i still got my twa "junior pilot" certificate & wings to prove that part. that's not a real big deal, tho, because i also have my cheech & chong "big bambu" rolling paper in the same 30yo envelope. both taken together have been good for many a chuckle, tho.
anyways, dad was a gearhead, & mom encouraged it. my first lucid memory (maybe 5yo?) of dad was when mom and i visited the automotive plant and he was speed-wrenching oilpans onto small-blocks (i think i remember red, so prolly 283's) at the the top of a steel-grid stairwell on the assembly-line...the almost-finished blocks were riding a chain up and over him, he was doing his small part. i thought it was cool.
by the time i was 10, there was a wall of trophy's in the basement from alton speedway in illinois. i think he won most of 'em with our pontiac station-wagon...back then, you "run what ya brung" & wut he brung was a big block with a 4-spd hurst...2-tone babyblue/white, he did a nice job of painting a "covered-wagon" logo on the roll-down rear glass. anyone remember when ya had to roll down your own windows? we had to roll it down before we backed into our drive-in movie spot. drop the tailgate, hang that flash-gordon speaker in the best window...and watch elvis in some corny flick with (confusingly but interestingly) hot chicks...and popcorn from home in a big brown paperbag.
we had kool-aid, too...popcorn & cool-aid still rocks my world
so...i got "apostrophe" crankin', i'm way wasted but under house-arrest (read: i'm not ridin', i'm at home and quite happy with the current state of affairs)...i'm ready to unload ("dirty love" just started LOL)...
i was born to a young couple in '57. he was an aircraft mechanic in the air-force, she was one of 7 in a tiny (but sturdy, grampa was handy) shotgun. i dunno much else about that part of the story. i have a very vague memory of riding in a turbo-prop as a tike...i still got my twa "junior pilot" certificate & wings to prove that part. that's not a real big deal, tho, because i also have my cheech & chong "big bambu" rolling paper in the same 30yo envelope. both taken together have been good for many a chuckle, tho.
anyways, dad was a gearhead, & mom encouraged it. my first lucid memory (maybe 5yo?) of dad was when mom and i visited the automotive plant and he was speed-wrenching oilpans onto small-blocks (i think i remember red, so prolly 283's) at the the top of a steel-grid stairwell on the assembly-line...the almost-finished blocks were riding a chain up and over him, he was doing his small part. i thought it was cool.
by the time i was 10, there was a wall of trophy's in the basement from alton speedway in illinois. i think he won most of 'em with our pontiac station-wagon...back then, you "run what ya brung" & wut he brung was a big block with a 4-spd hurst...2-tone babyblue/white, he did a nice job of painting a "covered-wagon" logo on the roll-down rear glass. anyone remember when ya had to roll down your own windows? we had to roll it down before we backed into our drive-in movie spot. drop the tailgate, hang that flash-gordon speaker in the best window...and watch elvis in some corny flick with (confusingly but interestingly) hot chicks...and popcorn from home in a big brown paperbag.
we had kool-aid, too...popcorn & cool-aid still rocks my world
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