Hey, all the Cool Kids are doing it, so why not an Oldie Moldy! Here's my trailer for "In the Seam": SPOILER! You're still going to have to READ the book to find out what the hell is going on. And even then, you may be wondering!!
Ahhh, another balmy Pennsyltucky Friday in late April. I had to come inside the house twice while mowing the lawn, to put on more seal skins, scarves, gloves, ski goggles, insulated boots and long underwear. There is no feeling in my face and my ears are blue and ringing. Excuse me while I fire up the acetylene torch and attempt to thaw the icicle that has formed on my nose. How's your day?
Total Disclosure: I've never owned a new car. Complete Total Disclosure: I've never owned a car that was made in the same decade as the one I was living in. Sometimes the car was as old if not older than me.
The grand tradition of naming these cars began with my very first: a light blue Oldsmobile. One of my best friends said that it looked like the one that Sgt.Vince Carter (pictured above) from the show "Gomer Pyle" drove; except without the fins on the back. Everyone began to call the car "Vince" or the "Vincemobile".
Instead of a needle, Vince's speedometer had a fat line that would change color from green to orange to red. "Oh no, we've got Vince in the red!" became a commonly heard scream from the back seats.
And then a new phenomena began. People would talk about seeing Vince out and about somewhere. Not me. Vince. "I saw Vince burning down Market Street the other day!" "Vince was sitting outside of the Turkey Hill." "How did Vince end up in that tree?" It began to feel like an out-of-body experience. The car had usurped the owner.
This trend didn't end through the decades. Many cars came and went, followed by a fleet of beat-up vans. They all had colorful names. And, they were all spotted going places without me. This also happened when I was given the nickname "Uncle Raymond". "Yeah, Uncle Raymond was up to his old antics the other night!" "Yeah, I know. Did you see him..." All of this with me standing right there. Sheesh.
I have now bequeathed (if only symbolically) one of the last of these four wheeled monstrosities to "The Rock Brothers" in my book "In the Seam". It seems only appropriate that they as young long-haired musicians should inherit "Vanikan Skywalker". I hope they take good care of the beast. Total Disclosure: They don't. They end up in the "Seam" by crashing him into an oak tree. Oh, well. He didn't have much life in the old tank anyway.