Horses vs Horse, a recourse of Courting
Dad said I was to do this myself. So, after looking over many vehicles… too many; and I just wanted my Horse. Still, I was 14 and eager to prove myself against my friends in Shop Class. I decided on a hum-drum Ford. I could get it for $475 cash (in 1968). Now to make it fine. Let’s keep the 6 cylinder but beef it up a bit. Dad helped, and the Power Top worked well after many small tweaks. Switch out the two barrel carburetor to something new and very different. Let’s set up this small six cylinder with one carburetor per each cylinder and then force air to each. Now, well, it didn’t work. Had to go to a Double-Duce. Damn hard to adjust four carbs for 6 cylinders. Still, really just wanted my Horse.
So, finally. A 1963 Ford Comet Convertible… maxed out. Sweet, but the guys in my Shop Class had gone way beyond that with V8’s that totally was the Thing. Me, my Ford, peppy little thing with a rag-top. Got teased. No girls.
Here’s a secret I’ll share with you. Nights when the Gang was bragging ’bout their V8’s and their Ladies they picked from all that waited to be seen with Machine and Chrome, those boys and girls at the Local Place?
I was picking up a Lady any night I found her. A very trusted friend of mine, that Horse, no cylinders, just a good Quarter-Horse. Some moonlight, a very few words spoken light. An extra blanket.
See, the Ladies might say they like the flash, the rumble, the clash of machines and Men.
I know they like a silver slice of moonlight, a word or two said soft, a Horse and a Rider.
yeah jeff… we saw the flash before the personality… oh young and foolish, those were the days. Thanks for the blog.
well papa what can isay , you are wise now,
you were wise then ha ha x
Very wise Papa.
I kneel. Always enjoyed the Ladies Point of View. Never chased a skirt. Oh, sure. As things happen, found myself in the hay with a girl who wanted same, still always wanted more. Kind of you to comment.
Have so much respect for you, I find myself nearly without a word. Well, nearly. You r Good People. Happy I know you enough to chat a word or three.
I never looked at cars instead of the man. I don’t know about the other girls. Wasn’t the tinkering a lot of fun though?
M’Lady, I was a boy who Rode. Whether an old Ford, a trusted horse, or a moments’ notice, I Rode. Never tinkered, asked friends to fix what I broke. Papa said I should find my Way, I found my Way meandering. Sure, as with most boys, my hormones raging, there was a twist or two. Sure, I found myself in the hay more than once with a Lass who wanted same. Still, was a starry-eyed one who needed more. A farm boy that understood the birds and bees. Well, and was disappointed by the Lass that just wanted a tumble in the hay. So, here 50 yrs hence, Me? Still the same. Enjoy the ladies, care less about the hay. I still Ride. Right now it’s a Victory Vision Custom, no mere Harley for me. You might have been a friend of mine back then, I a boy you could trust not to want in your knickers. Rare then, rare now. I like the unusual, and I enjoy a Lady. A tenderfoot they called it, one who travelled for no other reason than to see the back side of the next hill.