A million years ago, there was a car dealer called University Lincoln Mercury. Innocuous building, two doors down from the Minute Market.
Used cars were sold out of a trailer on a dirt mound in the middle of the lot. Behind the dirt mound, they displayed a red and white used
Duster with a 340 ’59 Edsel for a while. I loved that car – maybe too much.Good bye, Boss wagon, hello worst car ever crash test dummy Zephyr. (Probably the horrific polyester two-tone paint job inspired hate.)
In the back row were the shitboxes that they
sold to stupid ignorant teens planned to send to the scrapyard or auction. One of the finds back there was an early ’70s Honda 600: two-cylinder, four speed (all slow), 1300 lbs. soaking wet. This is where i learned about Fancy (Re)Parking, when you aren’t troubled with the burden of having the keys. Bounce-lift-move, bounce-lift-move. before you know it, you’re 90 degrees counterclockwise of where you just were.