I was driving my car last week, a particularly boring drive. I had a long
way to go on the highway and there wasn't much in the way of scenery to stimulate
the senses. You know thing kind of blacktop stretch, no junkyards to peer into
or reptile farms to contemplate visiting. I drive my 30-year-old car above the
speed limit, but I am also aware of my vehicle's limitations.That being said, I pass a lot of cars and I get passed equally. The volume of traffic is high, however everyone is moving comfortably at his or her pace. The slow lane folks are going slow, the travel lane folks are traveling and the fast lane is reserved for those who truly wish to break the law. Come to think of it, even the traffic with its harmonious flow is boring. Even the weather is boring. On top of all of this, my Chrysler Solid Sate AM radio decides it's not in the mood to receive any Rock n Roll stations that were pre-selected via the "pull-push" method of the chrome buttons. Sigh. During times like this my mind, well I suppose anyone's mind, wonders. I began to closely scrutinize the vehicles ebbing and flowing within my wake. I first take note of what I call "The Clown Cars". Anyone reading this has an interest in classic cars, so I shouldn't offend you. But on the off chance I may, I firmly stand behind the First Amendment and my alleged journalistic license. "Clown Cars" look like one of the options should be big floppy shoes and a red rubber nose.  continued...
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Daily Drives is a monthly column relating experiences driving these old cars.
| "...no junkyards to peer into or reptile farms to contemplate visiting." |
