Forty Years of “Gravy”

On July 14, 1979, I turned my 1975 Monte Carlo into an El Camino, instantly.  I also managed to push the ball of my femur through the back of its socket. Basically, I broke my hip, the largest joint in the human body. Some describe the pain of a broken hip as comparable to that of birthing a child. Having had no way of verifying that, I just took their word for it. By the way, it was painful enough to make those analogies seem valid.

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Return to the Lone Star State

After arriving home yesterday morning at 7:00 am from a road trip to my previous state of residence, I reflect on the week-long excursion. From Muncie to the Dallas/Fort Worth metroplex is roughly one thousand miles, about 16 hours of drive time using the optimum route. Having made the trip many times over the last 4 decades, the distance may not have changed, but my physical stamina and mental acuity sure have!

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Dayton Days

We were in our apartment at Poplar Apartments in Durham, North Carolina, when Dad opted for the Air Force instead of waiting for his draft number to come up. Originally, we were to be heading to San Antonio, which I thought was cool since I’d been learning all about the Alamo, in fact, we had just watched the John Wayne film classic. However, at the last minute the final verdict came in and it would be “Wright-Patt”, so it was off to Dayton, Ohio.

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