“ONE OF THE STORIES” – AS WE’VE BEEN TOLD

 I am a double Dodge born in 1941.  I was born in a factory that, soon after my birth, was converted to an airplane factory where I was left half-built.  In 1946, when my factory started building cars again, my model was too old, and in order to promote business, the factory built three cars like me using parts from six unfinished cars.  They made me into a “double” car.

 I subsequently moved to a Dodge Dealer on the East Coast for display where I stayed for many years.  Every December, I drove in the Macy’s Day Parade in New York and was one of the main attractions.

Finally, the Dodge Dealer who had me all those years went Japanese and started representing Toyota.  In 1996, I was donated to the Salvation Army at a charity auction.  Rumor has it that the dealer took over $100,000 as a donation.  As to my siblings, I lost touch with one, but I know the other is on permanent display in an antique car show in Las Vegas. 

I was purchased by a previous owner almost two years ago to market his business and, I am proud to say, I did very well for him.  He spent money to repair me and to keep me going.  Now I’m working for Universal Courier. They have promised that I will be loved and cherished and taken care of in the manner I deserve, now that I’m over 60 years old.  But hey, I’m still running and exercising when needed.

“I Am Siamese If You Please”

Since the “Empress” was going to a show Monday, I decided that she should have a bath. The Empress is, however, a bit too much for today’s modern car washes, so I decided Sunday morning I’d take her to one of those quarter (many quarters nowadays) car washes that you do yourself with the pressure spray nozzle.

 I picked the Empress up bright and early from the office and proceeded to our destination. She was purring right along while I prepared her for the bath. “Duke”, our wonderful security dog, happily sat on the seat watching the action.

 After washing her paws, I mean the wheels with the brush, I sprayed suds all over her and then did the final rinse. She was looking nice and pretty and I knew after the towel dry, we’d be strutting off together letting all the other people admire her beauty.

 With a turn of the key and my left leg pushing in the clutch while my right foot is pushing the starter motor the expected purring did not happen. The Empress merely groaned…again and again. After a few choice words of encouragement, expletives deleted, we tried again. And again the Empress groaned…and again and again.

 Having gone through this scene way too many times with the cars from my youth, I suspected that water had gotten on the ignition system and she wasn’t going to start until everything was dry. I opened one of her several hoods and could easily see that the Empress was soaked. How these things operated in the rain in the forties I can only guess at.

 While staring at this wet mechanical heart, and armed with a pair of needle nose pliers, the horn starting making itself heard. I recalled seeing the sign at the front of the car wash admonishing all against loud music, horn honking, etc, as a courtesy to the neighbors. Since it was 7:30 AM (but was really only 6:30 AM because daylight savings just occurred), I felt my health and welfare may be in jeopardy. I immediately cut the horn wires and the Empress hissed at me with some sparks a flying, but at least there was quiet.

 Now I had to figure out how to resuscitate the Empress and bring life back to her. I started toweling off the water and fiddling with her distributor. I guess she took exception to this because she immediately drew blood from my hands. Those claws came out in rapid fashion, but I valiantly continued on through the grease, blood, and hair flying around. Armed with lots of towels I continued the drying process and daringly went under her distributor cap. After replacing the cap, and leaving some more skin, I felt it was time to let the cat out of the bag.

 I proceeded with the triple appendage starting procedures and the Empress quickly responded with a roar, and then that wonderful purring sound. After breathing a sigh of relief and telling her she was a good kitty, we were back on the road again.

 Back at the office I finished the towel drying and primping her for Monday’s show. The quick bath became a long one (like this story), but we’re fortunate to have her and our dog Duke. Duke never said anything during what also must have been a very trying time for him. He just looked at me with those shiny eyes and tongue hanging out, as if to say “good job, even if it was for a cat”. And you know something else, he still has never said anything about it.