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Flashback Friday

Aledo Sesquicentennial Sept. 17, 2005

Aledo had a nice birthday celebration eight years ago around this time.  They pulled out all the stops to celebrate their sesquicentennial (don't Google, it's 150 years) bash.  One of the highlights was a car show at the old hospital.   With the help of friends in Burgess I brought three old cars over.   





From right to left:  Priscilla, my 1961 Imperial Southhampton Custom Coupe, complete with fancy presentation board.  Next to her was my 1965 Ford Galaxie convertible, and finally, Baby, my 1962 Plymouth Belvedere.



I forget now exactly why there was a spinal column in the parade, but it's something you don't see often amid the firetrucks and glad-handing politicians.  


Again, I'm not sure why there was a confederate presence here.  Aledo was pretty firmly in the Union camp and if my math serves me, the Aledo birth date would have been in 1855, a good five years before the Civil War.  But then again, parades don't need to make sense, do they?  A couple of guys in vintage uniforms, flags flapping, riding beautiful horses, one need not over think.  Just soak in.  


I love the looks of big burly draft horses.  Michael and I went out to Farm King once where they had a display of them.  Forget now what type, but big black beasts.  Spectacular things.




The ever popular Budweiser wagon.  




I don't know how many of these they have traveling the country, but I've seen them a couple of times, and its always pretty neat.  



Watching the parade in style on his mini-bike is Richard Barton, a buddy from Burgess who helped me bring the cars over.  He had the pleasure of driving Priscilla, I think.

I recall this day as being a pretty good one.  Car shows are always fun but when you have 3 in one that's special.  I'm not totally certain, but if I had some Burgess help with the cars, then after the show I probably had some Burgess beer.  Richard was probably  rattling off engine specs and rear end ratios, and all that gear stuff he knows.  He is restoring a 71 or 72 Mercury Cougar convertible. When I was up recently he drooled over Miss Frump and he talked for a couple or three hours about engines,  torque, transmissions and all the bells and whistles cars used to have.  Nothing is more fun that to hear him talking about arcane specs and engine cubic inches, and piston movement over a few cold beers.  Its like a different language.   

Me?  All I know is how to put gas in the things, write checks and smile as I'm driving.   Like the penguins say in Madagascar, "Smile and wave boys...just smile and wave." 

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