Why am I even pursuing these topics? Because it’s part of American culture. It’s part of who we are.
In 1961 I graduated from High School in northern Sonoma County, CA. As my academic record did not indicate that I was likely to succeed in gaining admittance to any institution of higher learning, I decided to go to work in a lumber mill. After I piled up a very few bucks, I thought it was time to take the next logical step in advancing my position in the world: I bought the most outrageous hot-rod I could find. Now, you have to picture this. Start with a 1941 Chevrolet Coupe, like this one:
Now, that’s not much of a hot-rod. First picture it painted bright yellow, and jacked way up in the air (even though those were days when most kids were still lowering their cars). Now, to touch it off, you will need a big Woody Woodpecker smoking a cigar just below the driver side window. One that looks like this:
