I’ve been thinking a lot about my junk food habit.
I liken it to the passenger window on the old Chevy Chevelle. One day I open that window and the damn thing won’t close. I try and try, but you end up having to dismantle the entire door panel to get the window back on the track. It’s a pain in the ass. And I am very aware of this window not working – for a few weeks.Read More
When I am eight years old, my dad gets us a new car.
Because he is an organizer with the United Auto Workers, a foreign car is out of the question – even as the 1973 OPEC crisis sent most Americans scurrying for fuel-efficient Datsuns and Toyotas.
Also not on the acceptable list is his dream car, a sunflower yellow Corvette C3 Stingray convertible: Bad form to show up at a picket line in a set of wheels that expensive and flashy.
So, practical man that he is, my dad settles on a lemon-yellow 1974 AMC Matador with a black vinyl roof.Read More