50 years of Living the Dream
It was a warm and sunny day when Joe and I jumped into his Dad's car. We weren't going far, just a couple of miles down the road. The car was a beauty. It was white with a Black vinyl top. Back in those days, the Mopars were as long as a limo and had plenty of horsepower. This was the perfect car for the day. But on this day, our limo had other plans. We pulled onto Telegraph Road and got as far as the 270 overpass when the Plymouth died. There we were, two guys in tuxedos on the overpass with our thumbs out, sweating and beating feet to our destination two miles down the road. She was already there. Back then, we didn't have cell phones. There were pay phones, but the closest one was probably more than a mile away. With less than one hour to go. What would happen if I didn’t show up on time? Would she think I changed my mind? Would this be the end of what was supposed to be the beginning? The looks we got! The horns that...