My life, and how I see it. Mostly factional. Sometimes fictional.
Sunday, June 26, 2016
Remember when?
It's a ritual. It's something to do. When you come from a small town, it may be just about the only thing to do. The classic movie American Graffiti proves that even in a big city or town, it's done the same way. Cruisin'. "Runnin' the drag." It's a social thing. Back "when," it was how you found your friends. There were no cell phones, although we did have CB radios. Seems everybody had their favorite hangout. Make "the loop" a few times, then pull over, park and watch. In our town, we had certain parking lots that were the main places for teenagers to congregate. And on the weekends, it was "the thing" to do. You started when you were old enough to get invited by an older sibling or friends. If you were lucky or industrious, eventually you'd have your own car. And you stopped when you, well, maybe some just never stop.
Our town wasn't too big. But the loop was simple, It started at the courthouse square, went north to "north end," home of Dairy Queen #1 and the Gaddis/Palms Hotel parking lot. Heading back south involved a left turn onto Highway 67 and then a U-turn. And it's what we did. All. Night. Long. I'll admit, I didn't make the run a whole lot. I worked. And in a town where about the only 24 hour business was the EZ Mart, there wasn't much to do by the time we clocked out and hit the drag.
The hangouts were well lit, except for maybe the Gaddis/Palms parking lot. The Dairy Queen. The Sonic. You'd see your friends buying gas at Billups (Filllup with Billups), or maybe Pic N Pay. You didn't have to fill up. $5 bucks went a long way at .44 cents a gallon. Grocery store parking lots were popular. Safeway (which would become Mason's Hardware). Piggly Wiggly. Sunday mornings would reveal large quantities of beer bottles and beer cans. People had their spots, and you knew where to find them. Loud dual exhaust notes permeating the night air. Unless you were driving mom and dad's car. 4 door Chryslers, Chevrolet Impalas or maybe a Caprice, and the Ford Galaxy. Early on in my youth, back when you had an AM radio with one speaker, cruising at night meant listening to clear channel radio stations from Chicago, New Orleans, San Antonio and Oklahoma City. And being just over 100 miles from Dallas, WFAA, KLIF and WBAP were also available. Hanging with your friends and listening to music. That was living. And times were simpler.
Fast forward to today, where cars are "fancy." Doors that open themselves, push button starters where you never need a key. Satellite radio. Hell, you don't need a radio, just use the Bluetooth on your phone and listen to Pandora or something similar. No more 8-track players. Cassette players. And now, many cars don't even
have CD players. No matter, pull into a parking lot and see a classic car, and that's the car everyone is looking at. Yesterday I followed what appeared to be a '68 Ford Mustang Fastback. The license plate was simple..."Kept It." Don't we wish we all did.
This was a special weekend here in the 603. It was Kruise weekend. Generalizing, it's a bunch of old teenagers reliving the past. Enjoying those simpler times. Some showing off. Some just proud of what they have. No, they aren't all "show cars," but a number are, and so many are close. They have various "min-shows" at different business. On Saturday, they have the "Show 'N Shine" where everybody puts their best foot forward with freshly washed and polished displays. It's a chance for the "have nots" to get up close and personal with the "have", be a little envious, maybe a lot envious, and admire what used to be. And those participating, well there's a lot of admiration among the peers. It's a step back in time. A time when things were simpler. Maybe harder. But neighbors knew neighbors. Young men registered for the draft knowing it was a possibility, not just a law. And many just signed up for Military service. A time when neighbors helped each other, and nobody got offended by every little thing.
The Kruise itself brings people together. The 603 is made up of a lot of different folks. Farmers. Businessmen. Hippies. Retirees. The Air Base adds a great mix of our brave Military members. All coming together for a common event. A time to relive the past and those memories, and make new memories. And friends. Maybe you have something similar in your town. I didn't make the Kruise this year, so the pictures are from the past. But then again, so is the Kruise.
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