Shutter Speed: My own wheels!


Jumping straight from the cavernous back seat of my old man’s car to when I held a driver’s license in my anxious hands would only bypass some rather wild and hilarious times. My Mother and Father went through a number of interesting cars after the suicide doors. Several Anglia, a Ford Sedan Delivery, a beautiful black Buick Century convertible and a Chevy Biscayne. How he ever slipped from the Buick to the Chevy I’ll never know, but he did.  The Buick is the first ‘real car’ I ever got my hands on and my old man let me drive it while he sat in the passenger seat!  While vacationing in Florida when I was 12 years old my Dad let me drive the Buick with it’s beautiful red leather interior.  It was only in and around the parking lot of the tourist lodge we were renting in Tampa, but it could have been Daytona!  The top was down, the wind was in my hair and that did it! Driving was the only thing on my mind – well, not always.  My Mother still had one of the Anglia which was left at home when my parents took a holiday in Washington the following year.  They left me in the hands of my totally deaf Grandmother who loved me dearly, but had no idea I was heading out the bedroom window as soon as I said I was going to bed.  She must have wondered why I went to bed at 7:30 some nights. The object of my attention was the Anglia! I drove it all over North Bay and the surrounding district every night for almost a week.  Getting gas was a problem at times, but I learned to use an old gas can, a bit of garden hose and a little suction to satisfy the needs of my thirsty steed.  I miscalculated on one occasion and ended up quite sick from the liquid that slid down my throat!  The last night I drove the car it started to make strange noises that came from the engine compartment.  I gently drove the car home and parked it where it stayed until my Mother started it up the day after they came home.  Do you have any idea what a new motor cost in those days!  Today you couldn’t buy a very cheap lawn mower at Home Depot for the same amount, but I was able to somehow bluff my way out of that one.  They began to watch me and the cars a little closer.  The following summer my Dad dealt the Buick for a Chevrolet Biscayne.  What a shit box! It was fun to drive up at the cottage when my old man was out fishing.  Lots of power slides on dirt roads and in a sand pit nearby.  That car I drove all over and got the scare of my life one day when the cops came down the road in the opposite direction.  I took off up a side road that got narrower and narrower until it just ended.  I found myself in someone’s backyard!   The only exit was across their front lawn.  It looked newly seeded.  I took off up the side of the house and across the lawn.  I could see a man standing at the front window waving his arms as I floored the pig up the street!  My parents soon spent little time keeping an eye on me so I used the car a fair bit.  Before they finally got rid of it the driver’s door had rusted right through along with several other body panels, but the damn thing  just kept on running and I just kept on driving it.
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