Danger Man
I've done some dangerous things in my time.
I've blown kissies to angry truck drivers on the road.
I've stood barefoot in my underwear in a convent's cafeteria at midnight.
I've waited until "9" in my dad's 10 count to discipline.
I drank 2 gallons of Tang out of a garbage bag laying on my back.
I showered in water from the Mississippi River.
I get my haircuts from a one-eyed barber.
I sat in the front row at a Kevin Meany Christmas Show.
I'm a baaaaaaad man!
My latest adventure included many elements that would make a regular guy cry and scream and perhaps re-evaluate his life, or at least urge him to change his identity.
Driving along a back road in Georgia where the roads are dirt and street signs are painted on rocks, I came across a junk yard in the middle of no where as the sun was going down. I park, get out of the car and make my way to the opened gate which led to the grill that caught my eye driving by. Once I stepped in I was surrounded by at least 20 full grown, silent pit bulls of various colors and patterns, but all with the same demeanor and yellowed choppers which they all so politely were displaying.
Emerging from the corroded, twisted, former mobiles and flattened rubber I notice the long double-barrel, slightly tilted in my direction, held by a man with one white eye wearing greasy blue overalls with a name patch that simply stated "Boo." Was it supposed to say Bob or Bo? I don't know. After later consideration, I resolved "Boo" was appropriate.
Coming from another direction was a smaller version of "Boo" who equally shared my attention with all of the other players which now included yet another member of the junk yard crew. She made her presence known by using a loud piercing scratchy toothless voice. "Wha'chall doin ere?"
I guess my northern good looks exposed the fact that I was not a local.
Not knowing who to address, since I was in the center of the trio (and I think they were all interested in my answer), I spoke in the direction of the shotgun, mindful of the little doggies and the wild haired lady and perhaps her offspring or spouse or both.
I explained it was the car that caught my eye as I was driving by and hoped they would allow me to have a closer look at it. After some discussion with "Boo" I learned the car was for sale at $50,000. I said no way. He said he was offered $35,000. He also said if he painted it he could get $140,000 for it. Boo apparently had DirecTV and was now a Barrett-Jackson aficionado with huge overtones of delusion. All it needed were fluids and a carburetor. I liked it for its rustic smile.
We bantered some more, I made nice with the devil dogs, they invited me to dinner, but I took some pics and got out of there before the moon and whatever else was in that yard came to life.
Nice cars and photographic moments are always worth the risk. This Buick Special lived up to its name for all of us.
I've blown kissies to angry truck drivers on the road.
I've stood barefoot in my underwear in a convent's cafeteria at midnight.
I've waited until "9" in my dad's 10 count to discipline.
I drank 2 gallons of Tang out of a garbage bag laying on my back.
I showered in water from the Mississippi River.
I get my haircuts from a one-eyed barber.
I sat in the front row at a Kevin Meany Christmas Show.
I'm a baaaaaaad man!
My latest adventure included many elements that would make a regular guy cry and scream and perhaps re-evaluate his life, or at least urge him to change his identity.
Driving along a back road in Georgia where the roads are dirt and street signs are painted on rocks, I came across a junk yard in the middle of no where as the sun was going down. I park, get out of the car and make my way to the opened gate which led to the grill that caught my eye driving by. Once I stepped in I was surrounded by at least 20 full grown, silent pit bulls of various colors and patterns, but all with the same demeanor and yellowed choppers which they all so politely were displaying.
Emerging from the corroded, twisted, former mobiles and flattened rubber I notice the long double-barrel, slightly tilted in my direction, held by a man with one white eye wearing greasy blue overalls with a name patch that simply stated "Boo." Was it supposed to say Bob or Bo? I don't know. After later consideration, I resolved "Boo" was appropriate.
Coming from another direction was a smaller version of "Boo" who equally shared my attention with all of the other players which now included yet another member of the junk yard crew. She made her presence known by using a loud piercing scratchy toothless voice. "Wha'chall doin ere?"
I guess my northern good looks exposed the fact that I was not a local.
Not knowing who to address, since I was in the center of the trio (and I think they were all interested in my answer), I spoke in the direction of the shotgun, mindful of the little doggies and the wild haired lady and perhaps her offspring or spouse or both.
I explained it was the car that caught my eye as I was driving by and hoped they would allow me to have a closer look at it. After some discussion with "Boo" I learned the car was for sale at $50,000. I said no way. He said he was offered $35,000. He also said if he painted it he could get $140,000 for it. Boo apparently had DirecTV and was now a Barrett-Jackson aficionado with huge overtones of delusion. All it needed were fluids and a carburetor. I liked it for its rustic smile.
We bantered some more, I made nice with the devil dogs, they invited me to dinner, but I took some pics and got out of there before the moon and whatever else was in that yard came to life.
Nice cars and photographic moments are always worth the risk. This Buick Special lived up to its name for all of us.
posted by RJK at
12:52 AM
3 Comments:
They knew you weren't a "local yokel" when they saw the great work your dentist has been doing lately. But for a fat guy to turn down a free HOME-COOKED meal? Wow!
That's one helluva car. The story of how you found it isn't bad either. ;)
Great photo with a phenomenal backstory, made all the more phenomenal by the fact that you left with your wedding tackle and skull intact. Congratulations!
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