Here I am as a child in my first car driving Mr. Pinky to our wonderful clubhouse where other children would gather for a busy day of "advanced armament fort-building", "cowboys, Indians, and League of Nations arbitrators", "draping and fashion modeling with Silly Putty and drugs", and, my favorite, "Strip Old Maid". On the way, Mr. Pinky and I had a terrible accident over near the Dalrymple estate.... I don't remember everything, but it seems I crashed through a privet hedge and down an embankment into their three acre sand box..... Luckily, good old Pinky was thrown clear before my Mini-Duesenberg rolled over three times and burst into flames. As you can see, I was wearing my Fruit-of-the-Loom Asbestos Jumper....I was lucky, yes, and pulled to safety by three cub scouts who happened to be playing cops, robbers, and EMT workers, but the police saw my purple tongue and the empty bottles of Welch's grape juice in the back...I was later cited for DWI and talking on a tin can and string while operating a vehicle.... The judge handed down a sentence of 6 months hard labor at pot-holder making and selling Girl Scout cookies...door-to-door! I was totally humiliated!
Later, Mr. Pinky became my designated driver during my probation....Even in college, years later, we never spoke of it again….
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