Written by: Nola Perez

As just-hitched kids, we drove 
a Model T Ford with a crank 
for the engine, and a running 
board.  My big brother sold us 
his old carriage as a first car for 
a brand new marriage. Never mind 
it was his hunting car, repainted
and restored to all its former 
glory, a new conversion to 
a honeymoon car. In newlywed 
land without a pot to-you-
know-what-in, we had no aversion 
to second hand.  Now, fifty years 
later (and this may rub-ya) 
I've got a yen for a two-tailpipe 
Jaguar, or a BMW.  Though I am
not fickle, own neither vehicle
and true to my origins still
modest and practical, I'm not 
yet ready to go on the shelf.  
RACY is how I see myself.