Down memory lane. The following story is true. You can't make this stuff up.
The year was 1973 (I am 63).It was summer, hot, and I had a job delivering pizza, using my own car, a 1965 Ford Mustang. It lloked like crap, it needed a paint job, but it ran like a top. Of course, it handled like a dream.
The central valley of California then was basically stuck in a time warp. The valley was. I wasn't. I fully embraced the hippie movement, listened to dreaded rock and roll, and had somewhat long hair. Being a dude, this last fact rubbed some people the wrong way, especially those stuck in this time warp, thinking they were still somewhere in the 1950's.
