You Cant Make this stuff up

Tag: writing

  • We Took a 1957 Cadillac Hearse to the Prom

    We Took a 1957 Cadillac Hearse to the Prom

    We were embarrassed to drive to high school in our car.  

    Many had jacked up Nova’s,  GTO’s, V8’s, Hurst Shifters, super sound systems. 

    We roll in driving a light blue 1963 Chevy Biscayne station wagon with absolutely no options.  No power steering, brakes, air.

    Not even a AM radio.  

    Performance?  0-60 in 20 minutes.

    We offered anyone $50 if they could find an option. 

    The Blue Powder Puff

    This was a hand me down from our family business. The bean counter bought the car as cheap as possible right before union negotiations as a symbol that times are tough and would be a challenge agreeing to the requested 10 cent raise. 

    We had no chance of street respect.

    One time a guy in a high performance Camaro asked if we were delivering groceries.

    Another elderly couple asked if we could give them a ride to their assisted living home. 

    Imagine a date asking to turn up the A/C on a hot day and all you could do was roll down the window.

    We couldn’t go 4 years like this. 

    The prom is a month away and we can’t pick up our dates in this blue powder puff.  We had to do something quick.  

    Where could we find a vehicle with character, excellent condition, loaded and cheap? 

    A Hearse??  

    We went to a funeral home and asked where they put their hearses to “rest”. 

    Got a 1957 Cadillac Hearse, 35,000 miles, loaded for $400.  

    We stole a no parking funeral sign and parked right front of the school.  

    It had to have a name “His and Hearse”.  

    We made the prom deadline and 4 couples made the procession. 

    Other adventures with “His and Hearse”

    • Got a black, cheap, corrugated casket.  Put a girl in it, backed up to Burger King, took casket to the counter and asked for a burger and glass of water for our friend. 
    • Got 5 cars and had a funeral procession. When we saw a hitchhiker, the procession pulled over with the guy to get into the hearse.  “I thought this was a funeral” …”It is. Yours” He decided to run. 

    As more kids got their licenses, we needed more vehicles.  

    We added a grey hearse,  “Just Buried” and the girls convinced dad to buy them a 1958 Red Cadillac ambulance. “ Bloody Mary” to drive to St Mary’s Academy.  

    They got stopped for speeding.  Cop found a keg of Budweiser with red food coloring.  Labeled “Bloodweiser”

    Years later, people still talk about these rides. Some went to the prom, others were in caskets at fast food restaurants and 10 were caught drunk on Bloodweiser.

    The legend lives on….

  • The Goat, the Corvette, and the Dumpster Surprise

    My sister Sally’s pride and joy was Cotton Tail, a white rabbit with deep red eyes.

    A white goat standing atop an orange sports car, with visible wheels and windows.

    Then Christmas came.

    Brother Bill got a bow and arrow and immediately did what any responsible kid would do—shot an arrow straight into the sky.

    It came down directly into Cotton Tail.

    Christmas was pretty much over.

    Sally was devastated, so Mom went looking for something to ease the pain. On a country drive, she spotted a sign:

    BABY GOATS FOR SALE.

    Problem solved.

    That Easter, instead of another rabbit, Sally got a live baby goat nestled in green plastic grass.

    She named him Sticks.

    Cute little Sticks eventually became an 85-pound, four-foot-tall wrecking ball who ate Mom’s petunias and butted anyone foolish enough to bend over.

    Then came the Corvette.

    I had just bought a brand-new orange Corvette, and after a college football game, the family was celebrating.

    One guest, Harry, had enjoyed several scotches. On his way to the bathroom, he looked out the window and froze.

    “Martha… you’re not going to believe this, but there’s a goat standing on an orange Corvette.”

    Martha came over.

    Naturally, Sticks had already jumped down.

    “I don’t see any goat. Harry, we’re going home.”

    A few months later, sadly, a pack of dogs killed Sticks.

    Dad found him in the yard.

    “Michael, before school, bury that goat.”

    Mike had other plans.

    He tied a rope around Sticks, dragged him behind our old wood-paneled station wagon to the end of the driveway, and heaved him into the family dumpster.

    Problem solved.

    Or so he thought.

    “Did you bury the goat?”

    “Yeah, yeah.”

    Then the Waste Management guy arrived.

    He opened the dumpster, looked inside—and froze.

    Four goat hooves were sticking straight up.

    He marched to the house and pounded on the door.

    “Sir, I have picked up a lot of trash in 20 years. But never a dead goat.”

    Michael! Get that goat out of the dumpster