Long before many things were open-all-night Dad would drive until he was literally or figuratively out of gas and then pull over behind a "filling station" where we would sleep until it opened. On one occasion the parking place was perilously close to undetected train tracks. When a freight train blasted by in the wee hours we had a truly rude awakening. Someone (probably Sandi) said it was almost as loud as Kay blowing her nose.
As recently as 1976 there wasn't a gas station open late in Dillon, Montana. A note on the pump gave a number to call where for an additional $10 an attendant would come and turn on the pump. I made the call, paid the ransom and filled my tank. While I was in the town diner ordering hot chocolate someone siphoned all my newly purchased fuel. I always suspected the gas station attendant in bathrobe and galoshes of the crime. Later that night I narrowly avoided colliding with a jackrabbit in the middle of the road that was as big as a small cow. It might have been a sleep deprivation induced hallucination--or not.
Sandi also used to say "a shrimp boat is coming" when I blew my nose. I still blow loudly when necessary. I am loving your blog, the art work and all the memories it brings back. Good job little brother.
ReplyDeleteSandi also used to say "a shrimp boat is coming" when I blew my nose. I still blow loudly when necessary. I am loving your blog, the art work and all the memories it brings back. Good job little brother.
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