Tuesday, March 20, 2018

True Tales of the Old West

"Remind me?"

"We were in the Plymouth your dad sold me the summer before."

"The Plymouth?"

"The Plymouth Valiant, yeah. Mustard colored Plymouth Valiant. Your dad sold it to me for three hundred bucks."

"I remember the car, all right."

"Great car. Your dad had fitted it out with bird feathers for good measure. I still had to untangle the gears manually every once in a while."

"You ended up with that car?"

"I just told you. You and I hit a cement divider going 70 miles an hour in that Valiant. And came away with a few cement shavings on the front bumper."

"We did? I don't remember that."

"Yeah, we did. Steel, cement, sparks. The whole thing. The works."

"Seems I'd remember something like that."

"We were on 17 North about two miles from the New York border. We stopped at a Hess station in Mahwah to assess the damage but there wasn't any."

"We bought that car in Chicago, right after my brother was born. Must've been 1975. We moved to Seattle in that car. Went to Little Big Horn. Went to Mt. Rushmore. We moved back East in it. That car crossed the continental divide twice. The miles we put on that thing."

"I thought we were gonna die. How do you not remember this?"

"I don't know."

"We nearly died."

"I don't know. It was a long time ago."

"The good times must've melted your brain. You gotta slow down, it's too late to die young."

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