Thndrrd is the license plate I followed to work this morning. Did it mean Thunder Rad, Red, Ride, Rod or Rude? For a frosty a.m. the topless speedster seemed a little late for the season. Loud & larger than life sounds forced me to crack my window, as I listened to the engine purr & glass packs pop. The royal blue paint with two white racing stripes down the middle kept my attention. With its individual two seat role bars, I wondered how it would feel to be riding in it instead of catching his dust.
I sized up the driver. Was he young, old, divorced, proud, showing off, or a smoker? Yes, as I sat behind him at the light, he puffed away smugly. I hated him and thought of my own wishes knowing if they came true, that I’d be full of pride, as well. It’s really quite a blessing in disguise, to be poor. Dreams are free, though.
In high school a home town friend had a blue convertible. We all wanted a turn riding in it. Gary was generous to give us all a spin. After only a few minutes, I realized women’s hair & hot rods don’t mix. This didn’t happen in the movies. Although it seems so romantic, the wind drives you insane as it whips wildly.
The wide tires peeled out, as the light turned green on the 30 mph road. Paul Simon was playing '50 Ways to Leave Your Lover' on my radio as I followed him. Looking in my rear view mirror, I noticed the cars far behind me were obeying the limit. I slowed down wondering if a cop was in the group. He always gets the 2nd car, you know. That would be me. Today I was lucky, no officer.
I turned north before Mr. Hot Rad, Red, Ride, Rod or Rude and arrived at work early. Boy, I am lucky! Who knows, he could be in debt, divorced, dying or just a decent guy having fun. It's all in the way we look at it! Life is great!!
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