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Photo I Like summer photos

2015 Summer Wonders #72: Hey! Ice Cream!

Another summer wonder: ice cream trucks. Imagine a world where people with ice cream spontaneously appear on your street!  It’s beautiful.  I know the folks in the photo–they ran an immensely popular local restaurant for years before selling it and starting the ice cream gig as a semi-retirement thing.  The ice cream is outstanding.  The people selling it are too.

http://weeklypaper.blogspot.com/2014/05/indiana-pa.html
http://weeklypaper.blogspot.com/2014/05/indiana-pa.html

 

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art Photo I Took Saturday Night Originals

Saturday Night Originals: Appalachian Sunburst 1985

So, it’s not Saturday. I know. I didn’t want to wait another week to get this series on track. I’m not a photographer, but I’ve taken a few dozen pictures over the years that I liked–some of them, like this one, are scans of ancient film shots. Enjoy the pretentious effects–I thought I was being pretty arty at the time.

Appalachia Sunburst

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Photo I Like

Christmas: Hell,Yeah.

truck

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Photo I Like

Random Photo Found via Google Search 9

Random photos from the internet to you, via me.

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Photo I Like Uncategorized

Christmas Truck

source unknown

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Uncategorized

I Missed A Day: Introducing “Chuckwagon III”

I actually left town for a couple of days to visit my sister and a few of my numerous cool nieces (I got to see four of 7 nieces–but none of my 8 nephews), which was awesome–my family is saturated by fantastic young folks–all of whom are going to come visit at Christmas, right?  Right?!  Thought so.

The main reason I abandoned you was to retrieve the latest in a long and storied line of ponderous machines.  I bought Chuckwagon back in 1991, after my mechanic told me he wouldn’t repair my old Datsun because, and I quote, “Son, people die in cars like this.”  Chuckwagon was better–Chuckwagon wasn’t rusted at all; it had merely been on fire, which was only the beginning of the legend.

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Chuckwagon inevitably evolved from primer grey beater to elaborate oil sieve, and I was wagon-less for the better part of a decade, until I traded some manual labor for Chuckwagon II: Son of Chuckwagon, a gloriously square ’84 Caprice that we used as a second car until it had the temerity to pop a break line while my wife was driving it.  Son of Chuckwagon was sent to the breakers, but it was my heart that was broken.  There was something about that backwards-facing rear seat….

There he goes….

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I’m stubborn, and when I found myself, three years later, with a few coins from beneath the sofa cushions, I couldn’t help by replace my latest beater–and my pickup–with a single, massive, beastly descendant of the great Chuckwagon gene pond.  So, without further ado, I introduce Chuckwagon III: The Legend Grows.

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It’s only a matter of time until….

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Short/Micro/Flash Fiction

An Hour From Boise (another excerpt from an abandoned story)

Motorcycle_CopThere’s this pit of the stomach feeling, I know you know it, when you blaze over the crest of a slope on the highway with the Pogues blaring Streams of Whiskey from a dozen speakers and that big block Chevy 454 thundering backup, and the unmistakable profile of a Ford Police Interceptor crouches on the median like a sullen lion. There’s no time to brake, no place to go, the speedo jiggling somewhere north of ninety.  You reel it in causally, will he buy it that the beast got away from you—and your normally grandmother-like driving—and what about those hippie-dippy girls in the backseat, stinking of patchouli and peanut butter.  The pretty one, the one with the freckles in her cleavage and the ice blue eyes, is snoring like a drunk.  It’s likely she is, in fact, still drunk—and god knows what else.  You don’t even want to know what she’s got in her purse, or if she’s got a prescription for that, and if so, what for?  Maybe it won’t even matter.

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Photo I Like

Road Trip!

Road Trip!

Remember when that’s all you needed to say to your friends, and they were in…to the mountains of West Virginia, blues clubs in Chicago, a prowl down South Street (and a bad encounter with a horse cop) in Philadelphia, the strip clubs in Fort Erie, Ontario.,,,.