Music on Mondays—I wanna be 16 so I can get me a hot rod

If you are slightly down, listen to these songs. You will recover.
Thanks to Russel!
Great Stuff may be discovered on his page.
I encourage y’all to check it out.
Y’all!

Russel Ray Photos

The Music Chronicles of Russel Ray

When I went to the Cat House on the Kings fundraiser on May 3, Jim and I stayed at a hotel in Visalia on Friday night. Early Saturday morning I went for a walk and found a beautiful 1961 Dodge Polara at the end of the hotel parking lot:

1961 Dodge Polara

The Dodge Polara was introduced in 1960 as Dodge’s top-of-the-line, full size car. I will have more about this specific car in an upcoming post because its history is unique.

For today’s Music on Mondays, though, I thought we would enjoy songs about cars. After all, I do live in Southern California where people have an insane love affair with the automobile. Personally, I prefer the trains….

Since there are so many songs about cars, especially from the ’50s, ’60s, and ’70s, we’ll stick with the 1950s today and save the others for future Music on Mondays posts. All of…

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My Mother The Car

Sometime shortly after I mustered out of the U.S. Navy…
I found me suddenly in need of a car, a vehicle, a mode of transport, fuckin’ wheels.
Never really havin’ given two shits ‘bout such, I found myself in front of a pawn shop in Honey Grove Texas early one morning. Too early, in fact.

But, I skip ahead (as is my wont)

Let us go back in time (just a few hours; be patient)
I had fallen ‘in love’ with a woman (It happens)
Got drunk one late night; decided I needed counsel (from Peanut—My Yoda—problem was, I was in Commerce, Texas and Yoda was in Honey Grove, miles and miles and styles away)
What to do?
Drive to see him on Endor.
Jumped into my chariot and almost made it.
Alas! A bar ditch jumped up in front of me.
The car did not survive.
Happily, I did, but now I had a real problem:
Yoda was still miles away.
Walked the two miles to HG and spied a vehicle “For Sale”
Walked in to the pawn shop and inquired:
“Yall take credit cards?”
“No Son; we do not.”
“Damn shame,” I said. “’Cause I wanna buy that car y’all got for sale out yonder. Well see ya.”
“Wait! Wait! We can make an exception!”
“OK, gas her up and get her ready.”

And the rest, as they say, was History.

P.S. This post was inspired by a memory my good friend Mark, over at

http://markbialczak.com/

brought out in my mind. Thanks Mark. Peace On!

PPS: The ‘Car’ Had a half-life about as long as a bottle of Jim Beam in my house. 

How I came to live in the Shit Hole Garage Apartment which was not really a garage apartment, but only a Shit Hole underneath a garage apartment

Memory fails, but I have pieced together something approaching honest fact. I lost my posh digs at Ponderosa Apartments, and was forced to down-size. Madelyn was living in the ‘Proper Garage Apartment’ and was ‘in good’ with the Landlord. She informed me he had this ‘wonderful little apartment’ for rent, which was ‘just perfect’ for me. Read CHEAP.

I checked it out, paid my fifty bucks and moved in. The moving in took all of two minutes, for I had not much to move.

Working for Ruth at her Liquor store in Ladonia and making a solid three dollars fifty cents an hour (plus ‘benefits), it was indeed, ‘perfect’ for me.

Now mind you, I never complained about living in such a place. After all, it did suit me and no one would have cared anyhow if it didn’t. It had some kind of ‘certain charm (just like this place) to be sure. How many folks could invite a guest into their home and lead them past the shitter before arriving into the living room/bedroom/kitchen/study proper? As far as I knew, I had the only such place in all of Commerce. It was special.

And truth be told, I did some ‘entertaining’ there a couple of times. The only person who I would invite over was my girlfriend. She never judged me. She was always happy to be with me, no matter the venue. (Yes, that sounds conceited, but there it is Gentle Reader—c’est vrai, or quel dommage, or… choose your own français).

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