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Subject: [PD-LIFE] about Mom's red car
Date: Mon, 10 Feb 2003 00:28:04 EST

I told you a week or so back about Mom's Pindsler and I promised the story on
the red car. Well here goes.

I was pretty little when we bought her. She was a beige Anglia - an English
Ford. Well she was looking pretty dreary, so Mom and Dad figured a little
paint 'd brighten her up a wee bit. Well bright they wanted, and bright they
got! I'm talking poppy red here. You could see her coming from a couple
miles. The glare alone just stopped traffic. It was red, and I do mean red!
Keep in mind we are talking about 1963 wehn people just didn't drive red
cars! Well Mom was just learning how to drive. This was, of course, a
stickshift. So she finally got up the nerve to go out driving with my sister
and me, and she did real good. I mean no fender benders or no other
problems, that is until we got to that incline at Riverland Road and US 441.
Well the main road was up higher than the side street. So she sat at the
light until it finally turned green. She took her foot off the brake, put it
on the accelerator as she eased off the clutch. Well she eased up a little
too fast with her left foot and instead of going uphill, "clunk". The car
died. Then it rolled downhill backward. Well it took a little while to get
her cranked up again, and about the time she got it running and pulled up to
the signal, the light changed to red. By the second downhill spin, there was
another driver behind us. He was wise to keep his distance. About the
fourth time, he started to get annoyed (as if we weren't). He honked the
horn. So Mom put the parking brake on and casually stepped out of the car
and strolled back to speak with the kind gentleman. She said in her most
innocent, sweet voice, "Sir, I will be happy to sit back here and honk your
horn for you if you will kindly get my car started and over the hill and
through the light for me!" Well that shut him up I tell you. Eventually we
did get through the light (otherwise you wouldn't be hearing this story) but
that is only one of the many fun times that car provided. One day we were
driving along Davie Road (translated: dirt and gravel/see last e-mail) and
the car started making the most gosh-awful noise. Then it just died. Dead.
Nothing. So one of Davie's finest just happened along and said, "Ma'am, yer
gonna have ta move this hyear veHickle." Mom said, "but officer, it just
died. I can't get it started. What can I do?" "Uh, well, I don't know, but
yer gonna have ta git it outta hyear, er I'ma gonna have ta fine ya". Well
she could see she wasn't dealin' with the brightest candle on the cake so she
told him she would have to find a phone and call her husband. So we walked
to Mrs. Bateman's house. Poor dear was 'fraid to open the door after that
chair incident! But she finally let us in and Mom called Dad who worked a
couple miles away. He said he would be right over to get the car. Well Dad
worked for Growers Ford Tractor Co. and it wasn't too long before he showed
up driving a fork-lift--on the main road through town, mind you. This is the
God's honest truth! We crammed into that forklift, he put the edge of the
car in front, and shoved it all the way home! I think all 40 residents of
Davie were out there watching that day! Well I think Dad must have damaged
something on the car because it wasn't too many moons later that Joe,
(remember the security guard at the hospital) came looking for Mom. He said
the personnel director needed to see her about her car. Well she was still
mesmerized with the thing (even though Dad had already had his fill of it)
and figured he might want to know where they got that wonderful poppy red
paint. Boy did her countenance fall when she was told that her car was
leaking fluid and it was damaging the pavement where she parked, and if she
didn't fix it within 5 days, she was going to be fined for repair of the
parking lot!

The last straw with that car was the week we bought groceries. Well one week
in particular. Mom went to the freezer to take out the roast she bought 4
days earlier, and it wasn't there. Well it took a few minutes, but she
eventually made the connection between the missing roast and that putrid
smell emanating from the trunk. Lucky for us some drunk in an old pick-up
missed that stop sign and ripped the front end off the car. Even luckier was
the fact that nobody got hurt. It was just a few weeks later that Bud
decided to sell the Pindsler. What wondrous luck!!!

judy

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