Rare, Collectible, & Otherwise

Tag: Owasso (Page 22 of 120)

Baby, you can drive my car.

I know I’m not the only one that sometimes looks for reminders of the past. I’ve had folks come in looking for books they owned as children. Some memories are long-ago enough that the details are a little fuzzy…

It had a red cover, a lady told me once, trying to find a book from her childhood library. I didn’t have the heart to tell her a lot of books had red covers. Knowing the title is a lot more helpful finding old favorites.

A fellow brought some books by the shop today and I went outside to carry in the box. It was in the trunk of a beautiful Ford Mustang.

Shelby.

(Muscle car lovers will know about Shelby.)

After we got the book boxes inside and the Mustang-owning-customer was ready to go, I followed him out the door. Just wanted to hear the car start up, I told him. He smiled and said the sound of the engine was what had convinced him to buy it. He had a Mustang back in his high school days, he said, and he got to a point in his life where he wanted to own one again.

That’s a familiar feeling.

There is a search feature on eBay that will send a notification when an item of interest has been listed. My item of interest?

The 1964 MG that I drove in high school.

mgb_1

My father co-signed the bank loan, and let me do the talking with the loan officer. The asking price was more than the book value, the banker said. I know, I told him. But it’s worth it.

The man who wanted to sell it told me he changed the oil regularly, and that had to count for something.

You’re wanting that car pretty bad, aren’t you? the banker was grinning by now, and I admitted as much and signed the papers, promising to pay back the money. Dad mentioned how it didn’t seem like a very practical kind of car, but it seemed to be the kind that young people wanted.

Still loved the car when I traded it off for a Chevy van. We needed something to haul our music equipment around in, and the MG just wasn’t very practical. The trade was straight-up even, and I figure it must have been a wee bit traumatic, since I still remember the names of the young couple who drove off in my car.

They later painted it bright yellow – even though I thought the original black still looked good.

The van outlasted the band, and I eventually sold it, taking up a ten-speed bicycle while I saved up for another British sports car. But that ’64 MG was always in the back of my mind, and when I hit that first mid-life crisis I tried to track it down. My detective work turned up that the car had been sold to a collector and put in a warehouse, but when I called the fellow’s office, his secretary (who must have managed his inventory) told me her boss had parted with it years earlier.

The MG popped up on eBay yesterday and my heart jumped – just looking at the picture and remembering.

Then, I remembered it had been painted yellow and the car in the image was black. And had mirrors on the fenders. Mine didn’t. And – what about those hubcaps? I remember having a little hammer in the toolkit that was used to pound the knock-off cap loose that held on the wire wheels. Those weren’t wire wheels…

So, it wasn’t my car at all.

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Just as well. I don’t have a place to store it, or work on it. (And they always require work, those British cars…)

For fun, I Googled the ’64 and after scrolling a page or two of various colored MG’s I found the car of my high school days – at least the memories, if not the actual automobile. The second picture is the spittin’ image of the one I tooled around in, down to the wire-wheel spinners.

You know, I enjoyed most of my time going to high school back then, partly because it gave me a reason to drive that little car. Meanwhile, the search is half the fun and the hunt continues…

We’ve got car books (and can find most of those red-cover books!) so,

Come visit!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main St. Broken Arrow OK!

Baseball and the Battered Box.

Maybe it’s in the blood. Sports fan DNA or something. Some of us jump up and yell and some of us wonder – What’s the Big Deal?

Confession here: I’m a jumper.

I’m blaming it on the blood. I remember sitting with my Grandpa John in his big easy chair – talking baseball – when I was young enough to fit in the chair beside him. Kansas City was close enough to his house in Parsons that their team worked just fine as the one to cheer for. Probably are some folks in Parsons pulling for KC to win the World Series, but these days they’re rooting for the Royals.

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Back in Grandpa’s easy chair days, they were the Kansas City Athletics and he was tolerant of my NY Yankee sentiments. Before the A’s, Kansas City had one of the Yank’s minor league teams and they had been doing about as well as their Major League brothers. Grandpa John probably could have recited the league standings on any given day.

There in the big chair, I squirmed around the newspaper he was reading – sports page, of course.

Next to the chair, on the little table, was a radio tuned to a baseball game. The sound was down on that big wood-cabinet television across the room, but grass-lined diamond on the screen clearly indicated baseball, even if the picture was in black and white.

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Here’s the deal though. My memories of Grandpa John are of a man not much given to shouts and whoops at the crack of bat. Maybe others have different recollections of him, but in my memory he always seemed to be a laid-back, quiet sort of Grandpa. (He was said to have some harsh discussions with other drivers while he was on the road and behind the wheel, something else I may have inherited.)

I don’t remember him giving an approving shout at a line drive through the gap with men on base, score tied, bottom of the ninth – but he was a fan all the same.

And he was certainly patient.

Grandpa John’s television pulled in those ball games through an antenna mounted on the roof of the house. And that thing had to be aimed at the TV station to get a decent picture. Toward that end, he had a box on top of the television with a big plastic knob that controlled the motor that turned the antenna.

It made a great ratcheting sound, that box. Turn the knob and ka-chunk, ka-chunk, ka-chunk, the arrow moved around to indicate the direction of the antenna. I turned that thing often enough that the neighbors must have imagined the Huston house was helicopter-powered and ready to take flight.

Probably I didn’t know about anything skyward being turned by my fiddling with the rotor box. There was some kind of explanation once, kid-level-science details that whipped right through my ears and back out.

The box looked a lot like the one in the picture, to the best of my recollection. Thinking back on it, there is a vague memory of the TV growing all-fuzzy and then clearing up again. But the ka-chunk, ka-chunk, ka-chunk was the thing.

You just don’t get that with digital, kids.

The KC cousins and I are pulling for the Royals. Pick a team and do your own jumping, or just watch us and wonder: What’s the deal?

We’ve got sports books on the shelf and Dustin and I will be stepping up to the plate at lunchtime, so…

Come visit!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 S. Main St. Broken Arrow OK!

Grills and Grilles. Wow.

It’s a wonderful thing when the weather cooperates for a scheduled outdoor event! And the crowds were out in the Rose District Saturday for the Grills & Grilles Show.

Barriers went up along Main Street early in the morning, allowing hundreds of show cars and motorcycles to be put on display. By the time I got to the bookshop there were already plenty of folks strolling the length of the District and checking out the cars.

grillsGrilles

Several years ago, the cooking-grills-part of the event was intended to be a burger cook-off, but this weekend the event featured a sanctioned BBQ competition. Chef Dustin wasn’t entered, but whipped up a prize-winning pulled-pork barbecue sandwich on a King’s Hawaiian bread bun, complete with his own potato salad and baked bean sides.

Sold out.

It was a busy lunch service here at the book store, needless to say – and a great big THANKS to Kristen for donning an apron and helping her brother and old dad. It was hectic enough with the three of us, but I would have needed a clone or evil twin to have kept up without her.

grillsGrills2

Unfortunately, there was no time to get a picture to show us in action, and my snapshots of the cars in the sunny October afternoon didn’t fair too well, with the exception of the one that was aimed at the shaded buildings.

There was music in the air, cars on the street, and the wonderful smell of BBQ all ‘round.

If you didn’t make it out, I hope you found another outdoor spot to enjoy the perfect afternoon! You can make a mental note to attend the Car & Motorcycle Show next year.

Hopefully, the weather will be as cooperative then!

We’ll be serving lunch all week, so…

Come visit!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main St. Broken Arrow, OK!

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