In 1932 Henry Ford made the last 'Lizzie". The following year, I think, he made a lady out of Lizzie by getting rid of the canvas top and detachable side curtains and put wind up windows into an all steel body. My first car was a 'Lizzie', not an 'A Model' , but a 'B' Model. It had four cylinders and an up -draught carburetta that sucked up the dust from the road. Shock absorbers were imitated by webbing straps on coiled springs and were about as effective for smooth riding as pot holes in a gravel road. Of course, the fact that this was 1952 might have something to do with the ineffectiveness of the shock absorbers.
Lizzie was magnificent, she gave me all weather attachments to the female of my species, places to carry my work tools, camping gear, fishing gear and spare clothes for the many times my escapades required a non-scheduled change. My successes with the female of the species was somewhat curtailed by the ratbag way I drove that car when I was 'out of town, so to speak.
The adventurous kid of yesteryear was simply bigger, stronger and just as mad as ever. The scars from a year of motor cycling had only just healed but the mind that drove the car was the same as the one who rode the bike: bloody wild and free = ratbag.
I shall not go into details but simply leave the driving of Lizzie to your own fertile imagination. I did manage some wonderful picnics on the Lachlan River and a number of trips to neighboring towns without any major hassles. When others were in that car I assumed the responsibility for their safety and drove with as much decorum as I could muster. When I was alone it was another matter. After a few months I realsied that my Lizzie was slow when compared with cars the other boys had, so I acquired a Ford Mercury V8 and put that in place of my old four cylinder.
Now it had some get-up-and -go. Probably too much. But it did the job required of it and gave me and a few hardy souls many an exciting time. I was the only one of our group of ratbags who could get more than three 360 spins on the mud flats just out of town. It only lasted a year and I lost some of that ratbag and devil- may -care attitude. Good heavens, I was maturing into an adult. Heaven forbid that should happen, but , it did.
Lizzie was sold to a collector and I bought an old Bedford pickup utility vehicle.
Gone was the high speed, the power take offs, the 360's in the mud and the burn offs on the main road. Now I travelled sedately with plenty of space for cargo, a weight capacity of about one ton, and room for three in the cab with the lady sitting in the middle where the gear change lever was situated. Picnics, fishing trips and days on the river were now quite common as I had the only vehicle in our bunch of unmitigated ratbags with a load carrying capability. It was not fast and I was usually the last one to arrive at the chosen arena for whatever we had planned; but I usually had the food, the grog and the bar-B-Q, thus making me a man of importance and responsibility.
My working life was much the same as ever. A carpenter with reasonable skills was in high demand, and I was such a person. My love for the great outdoors meant I was often away all week working on a farm somewhere and was only home long enough to get a change of wardrobe for the next week and rest my weary bones. I did manage to check up with the lads and the current girlfriend if she hadn't changed allegiances while I was away. If so, I looked for a replacement.
Much to my surprise I got serious about one of the local young girls, and proposed to her.
She accepted and we were married, an action I was to regret some years later. But that's another story.
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Very interesting...
I can see myself getting hooked on your journal entries Bob.
Very well penned and easy to read...great job
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Julie, I think that everyone has lots of stories to tell. Life is full of them. I am only putting up the good ones. No one wants to hear of my troubles, they have enough of their own.
Thanks Julie, for your comments, I do appreciate them.
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Another good one Bob. Like you I owned an old Ford coupe 1936 model I bought for twenty five bucks. The right rear spring was sprung and I put rocks in the trunk to level the car. I had my first carnal experience in the front seat with a local girl who gave it up to anyone who asked.
David -
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Those were the days, my friend. A little money went a long way and the pleasures of life were simple and free. My 'B' model had all its springs, just had no shock absorbers.
Thanks again for visiting.
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Thank you for another great tale
It's so refreshing to read what you write. I have to get away from the horror genre after awhile and I love everything you write.
Your descriptions are so real and I can see that old Lizzie so clearly.
It's nice to kind of read your autobiography in your stories, journals and poems. I don't think anyone would find mine that interesting, but your's really is.
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Do not put your stories out of contention like that. I find that everyone has stories to tell that are interesting. The problem is to trigger your own memory to release them. Lis and I chat a lot and during the chats, something comes up and triggers a memory of something held in the recesses of the subconscious. We both do it, not a conscious effort, just something that happens. Then comes the hard bit, writing.
Many thanks Trish not only for reading but enjoying what you read. Your comments are greatly appreciated.
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