The Unusual

Today I picked for an hour on the 34 Bypass north of town.  The usual culprits showed up--203 cigarette butts, one Marlboro pack, four Virginia Slims packs, a Red Bull can, a Dr. Pepper can (Paul wasn't on the bypass, was he?) plastic Safeway bags and a piece of cardboard.  In the more unusual column was a "yocrunch" blue knit glove for somebody with extremely large hands--let me know if you lost one--a Do It Best Orange Marking Paint spray can, a vintage-looking silver Christmas ornament, a beefy hook attached to a 15-inch length of towing strap and a 1929 Model A.

Right!  Picking up trash along the road, I came across a car pulled just off the hiway.  I was trying to determine the problem the guy was having without being too obvious.  After all, I'm not a mechanic or anything.  As I got closer, the man standing in the road talking to the driver of the car called out, "Are you doing your civic duty because you are a solid American citizen?"  "Yes, sir, I am," I heard myself say while thinking, "This guy sounds interesting."  As I approached the car, I realized that it was towing the afore-mentioned vintage Ford.  "I'm Milt, and this is my sister, Connie," he told me after I volunteered my name.  Milt was dressed the part in a '20's cap and driving gloves and continued, "My mother had two children and half of them were girls."  Here was a genuine character to match what he quickly explained to me was a 1929 Model A Roadster restored to perfection in one of the four original colors: Bonnie Gray.  It looked muted green to me.  Milt had been out for a good old-fashioned Sunday drive in Endo Valley when his brakes went out on the Model A.  "They aren't hydraulic brakes, you know--they're mechanical.  I call 'em 'press and pray,'" Milt laughed.  Whatever they're called, it was a good thing Milt changed his mind from driving over Trail Ridge Road to just puttering around on this side of the Park where his sister was able to come to his rescue. 

Milt bought the little beauty way back when he was in high school--dare I say over 50 years ago--for $100.  I mentioned that my husband has always wanted a Model A; Milt said he could have this one for $24,000.  Connie jumped into the conversation to say she was nearly mortally embarrassed when Milt would drive her to school in the contraption.  "Oh, but it's so beautiful," I exclaimed.  "Well, it didn't look like that then!" Connie added.

As we parted company Milt said again how he thought it was pretty unusual for me to be out picking up trash.  I thought it was pretty unusual to find a 1929 Model A Roadster, but I guess considering Ford produced 4,320,446 of them, it wasn't too odd.  I just hope I don't have to pick up that many cigarette butts!

Always,
Winter