Watching "Pickers" on TV

Occasionally I like to watch the American Pickers tv show, and when I tuned in last night they visited a man who owned lots of old cars parked in dusty, leaky old buildings. For some reason the old cars made me think back to my old cars, especially my first one, a 1948 Chrysler, one like the picture above. Dad bought that car from Eph Loomer for $200 in 1958 because it had a fluid drive transmission that was easier for me to drive after my accident. This was in the
Elvis era when the young fellows were taking Fords and Chevies and customizing them to comply with the latest trends of the day. So here I came rolling down the streets in this big limousine. That car came to me in good condition featuring red plaid woolen seat upholstery, twin spotlights, and a tan paint job. I took lots of ribbing about my "tank" but for some reason no one ever complained about riding with me. I don't know of any pictures of that car and had to find this one on the internet. Years later, after I no longer owned it, I began thinking I'd like to have a picture and saw it parked in Smoky Sletmoe's pasture. When I finally got around asking him if I could tromp in there to snap some photos he informed me it had just gotten compacted and sold for scrap. Oh well, I've got my memories.

Then in another segment of the show the pickers found an Indian motorcycle that brought back some more memories. I had one experience with the old Indians. A friend, Larry Sprunk, owned one and offered me a ride one day. I got on behind him and held on tight (and tighter) as we began driving along a country road. As we picked up speed I knew he was driving fast, and at one point he hollered over the roar, "You just turned 80 on a dirt road!"

Another experience with motorcycles came when a classmate of my brother Howard, Lynn Bunn, came one day to help us move cattle. He was driving his 150 cc Honda, a very popular little bike in its day. After the cattle work was completed I asked him if I could take it for a spin and promptly killed the engine when I put it in gear. Thinking it was unpowered I gave it some gas the next try and I took off - straight into scrap metal piled at the edge of our shop. I twisted a knee in that wreck and limped around on crutches for a few days after that. I've since given up on motorcycles.