In my drum and bugle corps days, in my teens, we covered thousands of miles via bus. I discovered that I could sleep just about anywhere I could get more or less horizontal. Bus aisles and overhead luggage racks sufficed.
A bus full of drum corps kids is quite a different thing from the Silver...
Yeah, but we’re capable of imagining what might happen should we do this or that or the other thing, if we bother to think about it.
Alas, bad things happen only to other people. Until they happen to me. I believed that smoking was endangering my health. I’m not a science denier. But I on some...
Thoughtlessness is the culprit, usually, in whatever form that takes — impatience, selfishness, impetuousness, etc., etc.
Maybe we didn’t know better, which is not to say that we couldn’t have known better, had we given it a little thought.
Perhaps the most common lament (and greatest waste of psychic energy) of older people is “if only I knew then what I know now.”
In my own case, I really gotta learn to forgive myself for the stupid, silly, selfish, etc. things I did decades and decades back. I long ago learned the lessons, so...
... you actually do hire out the deep cleaning. We want this place sparkling before we gotta button things up for winter, when we’ll be without God’s ever-rejuvenating breezes blowing through this dump.
Sometimes I see a fellow of a certain age in a Ferrari or a new ’vette or a Lotus or something along those lines and I gotta wonder if the ED meds ain’t working.
I am now a fellow of a certain age.
I read that the new Corvettes aren’t available with a manual transmission. Rather, they have 8-speed dual-clutch “automatics” with paddle controls on the steering wheel. No clutch pedal. Using those paddles is optional; the transmission will shift in its own if the driver so chooses. (My Toyota...
A one-time regular poster here was of the view that cars made 50 and more years ago were superior to their more recent counterparts in almost every regard. He was adamant in that opinion, and cited old vehicles of his own that had travelled multiples of hundreds of thousands of miles.
I...
Range Rovers and Jaguars are frequent sights around here, but, seeing how I’ve never been in the market for one (my rich Uncle Godot still hasn’t introduced himself), I’ve never looked into where they are manufactured these days.
Many of us here clearly remember when British-made goods (bicycles, motor vehicles) had a certain cachet here in the colonies and “Made in Japan” was a warning.
Things change.
Fire away, friends, and please know that I love old cars, but whenever I hear someone say in regard to motor...
Had a ’64 MGB. Big fun to drive. Parking was a snap. And great visibility with the top down.
If I were to get another roadster (top-down two-seater) it would be something of more recent manufacture, unless a really great deal on a “classic” came along, either a low-mileage original (fat chance...
Not quite as bad as the cinnamon scented oversized pine cones. I’m guessing it’s an artificial scent, and it’s nothing if not extravagantly overdone. A display of the things in the supermarket vestibule threatens to burn your eyes.
I’ve been considering a second car, one just for fun, a nice enough used BMW Z3, maybe, or a Pontiac Solstice, which admittedly would be very selfish of me, seeing how it would be pretty much unusable to the wheelchair using member of this household. Add to that the expense of insuring and...
The bus stations in a couple-three smaller, relatively remote burgs of my familiarity sit locked up and unoccupied most of the time. The buses stop there, and passengers embark and disembark, but it appears that those passengers purchase their fare online.
Greyhound owns BoltBus, which had...
Intercity bus travel appears to be gradually going away. There is still some demand for it, especially the routes that stop in the towns without commercial airline service, but for covering greater distances, between major cities, it’s mostly a thing of the past.
My life got much better in my late teens and early 20s, as I grew more comfortable in my own skin.
But yeah, childhood was no picnic. Poverty, domestic violence, instability. The usual pathologies. By the time the Old Man grew up (to the extent he ever did), I was long out of the house and on...
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