Obligatory Car Story
Shortly after the last issue of The Cobra's Nose was unleashed upon you all, I got e-mails from the likes of Scott and my brother Chuck which said in essence, "You think you have car problems? Listen to what happened to mine." And I thought, "Poor saps. But I guess I really have been fortunate."
Patti Boyd Harrison Clapton
Now let me tell you what
happens when you think those sorts of thoughts: you wind up sitting in the
parking lot of a Peter Piper Pizza with a car that won't move, pretty sure
the phenomenon is related to the horrific grinding sound you hear when you
start to life your foot off the clutch. I'm just guessing, but I have the
queasy feeling that at least some of you readers are thinking, "Wow--that's
really bad." Then again, maybe some others of you are thinking, "That car
is the greatest muse since Patti Boyd Harrison Clapton." (You are my favorites.)
I don't have anything more to write until the folks at Buddy's Alignment and Auto Repair assess the damage. But let me just add I liked that name "Buddy" better when it was what we used to call Chuck, before it was given to the former President's late dog.
