Obituary for Richard John Hurd

September 18, 1932 to April 5, 2019
(Age 86)

Richard (Dick) Hurd passed away after a short stay at the Valley Regional Hospital in Claremont, New Hampshire. He had been an active resident at the McCoy Home for the Elderly in Newport, New Hampshire for the past seven years.

Richard was born in Newport, NH on September 18, 1932.  He was an only son to Burt and Ina Hurd. He attended training at the Vocational Tech College majoring in Auto Mechanics and specializing in Auto-Body repair. After completing school, he served in the US Army in Ft. Benning, GA. Upon returning from his Enlistment, he used his training in auto-body repair working with his father, Burt, at Sunapee Auto until obtaining a different position at Avery's Auto-Body in Newport in the mid-1960s. However, the majority of his working career was as a set-up machinist at Sturm, Ruger & Co. He retired at 55 years of age, to enjoy his time both travelling and volunteering as a missionary worker at different locations across the United States.

Richard married Martha Ann Osgood of Sunapee, NH in 1959 and was a devoted husband and quickly became the proud father of a son and daughter. Richard loved the outdoors spending many weekends camping in the White Mountains of NH with his family and friends. He also liked to slip into the wilderness with one of his muzzleloaders during deer season.  He was successful only a few times but said he liked being in the woods and his time spent there.

Richard Hurd was self-reliant, practical, and a bit of a collector.  Even after selling the Wendell home, he kept property with a large, old shed he called, "his barn". For many years it contained either entire or parts for snowmobiles, Volkswagens, tools and test equipment, campers, motorcycles, wind generators, and antique engines. Occasionally he would find something or other which surprised even him!  He enjoyed, as he put it, "tinkering on different projects."

As a consequence of his automotive and mechanical knowledge, he was able to keep dozens and dozens of different vehicles on the road throughout the years in New England’s fickle weather. Some were also used on a few long-distance road trips to locations such as Nova Scotia, Alaska, California, and Florida. Dick was interested in the diversity and variety of the United States and felt as though there were always new places in our country worthy of seeing. Though, he remained an ardent New Hampshirite in thought and spirit.

Richard (Dick) Hurd is survived by his son, Dennis S. Hurd of New Westminster, BC, and daughter, Laurie Wilcox, Le Claire Iowa, along with his grandchildren, Christopher and Elizabeth, and great-grandchild, Tyler, all of Le Claire, Iowa

He was preceded in death by his parents, Burt Hurd and Ina Hurd and his wife of 23 years, Martha Osgood Hurd.

Honoring Richard's wishes, there will not be any calling hours. The family will gather at a later time to privately scatter his ashes.

Rest in Peace, Dad.

Day 145 - I received a message today from my sister. She informed me that our father passed away last night at the Valley Regional Hospital in Claremont, New Hampshire.

Richard John Hurd taught me a lot about being a good person. Perhaps most importantly he demonstrated, in true Yankee tradition, the importance of becoming an independent person. He also encouraged me to remain curious and adventurous. These prove most true as it's physically impossible for me to return from Malaysia in time to help with his final affairs.

Dad, I will miss our telephone calls and hearing your many stories. I will miss being able to tell you about my life.

My sister will provide more information to me as it becomes available. I want to thank her for her expertise and amazing abilities to ensure his final wishes come to be.


October 1987 - After teaching at the Saudi Army Ordnance School in the city of Taif and a short stay in Sri Lanka, I flew to NH. Dad drove with me to Seattle in my station wagon. He flew home after the short stay.

A Week Early!

I usually call my dad two or three times a month. Last Sunday, I called and chatted with him for about 40 minutes. I wished him a happy Father's Day a week ago! I'm the one having trouble keeping dates straight, I guess.

Um ... Shouldn't I be the one able to keep track of the calendar? I'll have to get him later on the phone later today too and repeat my greetings.


I went through my photos to see what the earliest picture I might have on Flickr. He looks so young in this photo with my mom on their wedding day.

Image Redux

This picture has already appeared in my eJournal and images. It is contained in an entry written during my first week on blogging, on September 2, 2003. I figured that I might, over time, move old images from my domain server off to Flickr for more perpetual storage. Long live my blog!

The image shows a gift t-shirt with a photo. It has my sister and I standing at Stanley Park in downtown Vancouver. The photo itself with the words, August 2003, can be seen in the blog entry on the previous day. I was just about to mail it to our father in New Hampshire for his birthday that year.

Time marches on. I just wished my dad a happy 80th over the phone on Tuesday this week.

What a Gabfest!

I'm now getting a phone call every day from my father. I am so happy my sister and I finally got him a cell phone he is able to use. I used to chalk up not hearing much from him as his desire to make sure my sister and I have our own lives. Actually, it's just that he didn't have the means to keep in contact.

The old guy has never got out here to see where I live! I seldom get back to New Hampshire to visit. My partner and I do lots and lots of travelling but there have not been many reasons to return back East. I've always trusted my dad's decisions and figured that he would do what he needed to do.

I must say that we've talked more this week than during the preceding dozen years! It feels good. I'm glad we initiated getting a simple-to-use cell phone for him. I like sharing whatever he wants to talk about. He hasn't had the easiest life.



Well before the stroke, this photo was taken when I was back at my 25th high school reunion in 2002. I drove up in the Maine wilderness to see him.

Happy US Thanksgiving!

Jay and I were still away on vacation during the October day when Canadians observe Thanksgiving. I have to teach this afternoon but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate the holiday celebrated by our neighbours to the south. It makes for a perfect 'run up' to Christmas around a month later. I have the Macy's Parade recording right now from the satellite's Boston NBC feed.

In fact, during the greater part of my life, Thanksgiving occurred at the end of November. In the photo below I'm standing with my mom, dad, and grandmother Hurd. For a few years when I was young, we used to have Thanksgiving at the Krikorians in Methuen MA. My Aunt Olive was married to Uncle George Krikorian. They moved to Ft. Lauderdale, Florida in the 1970's.

Work to Live

HAPPY LUNAR NEW YEAR to those who celebrate it. I certainly wish everyone the best. Just to counter the day's emphasis on the accumulation of wealth though, I'd like to discuss other important things in life.

I talked to my father on the phone yesterday. I must remember to stick to some kind of schedule for these calls or weeks can go by without a conversation. He now relies entirely on me to initiate them. We talked for only about twenty minutes. I know where some of those idea espoused in yesterday's entry came from. Although loath to admit it for many years, I share a lot of ideas about life with my dad.

He never really 'bought into' the whole unsustainable myth of consumerism that often dominates economic life in North America. He still believes in official employment simply as a means to provide for one's needs. My father never flew much but always considered continent-wide road trips as useful. "Just to see how others live, he would say. My mother died when he was a relatively young man, but he still retired at 55. He is somewhat proud that he hasn't punched a time clock in nearing a quarter century.

As I begin approaching that initial age, I love him for that. I still refuse to acknowledge that I have adopted any of his beliefs. I'd rather think I was late in noticing what a very smart man he is too.

Piecing It All Back Together

My online presence continues to expand because of these daily snippets. I know I am unique but I don't know of anyone else who has accumulated such a great deal of online memoirs. It's even getting hard for me to remember what, exactly, sits on this site. The introduction of labels has helped me keep track of my eJournal and images, but a great deal of materials were added to the site before I started blogging.

I honestly don't understand a common mindset about the supposed, sacred importance of online privacy which some people have. Most of my peers (read: folks over 40 years old) have a weird fascination in believing they must work to maintain secrecy about private information. Well, all right; I'm certainly not about to blog my credit card number or, in fact, any other information that I wouldn't divulge at any social event. But hey, I certainly don't mind that things about me are publicly recorded and archived. In fact, it's actually quite hard to come up with something that anyone wants to read or look at. I think this matter of not being exposed on the Net is a generational thing. People entering the workforce nowadays have actually grown up with the Internet, so these are not concerns which they share.



I don't even know the full extent of all my digital debris. I accidentally came across this photo among my own online junk. I had been wondering whether I could pull together various photos of the cars I've owned. I'd completely forgotten about the car above, much less that a picture was already online. The K-car station wagon replaced a previous one.

This was the second car driven from New Hamsphire to Seattle. After finishing work in Taif, Saudi Arabia, I went home. My father and I crossed the country in this one in October of 1987. We did a little sightseeing which is why the photo was shot at Mt. Rainier. I was anticipating working in the States, but ended up running back to another Saudi teaching job in January of 1988. I sold the car to friend, Joel, I believe. It smelled awful inside because I used to smoke cigarettes.

A Day for Mom

I'm sure there are lots of thoughts about mothers in the blogosphere today as it's Mothers' Day in the Americas. Don't I remember that the British celebrated this on another day? In Los Angeles, we saw Latinos selling lots of special baskets with stuffed animals and assorted items by the side of the streets. We felt that they must have been for Mothers' Day. Actually, after a little research, I found these countries celebrate on the second Sunday in May as well:

Anguilla, Aruba, Australia, Austria, Bahamas, Barbados, Bangladesh, Belgium, Belize, Bermuda, Bonaire, Brazil, Brunei, Canada, Chile, China, Colombia, Cuba, Croatia, Curaçao, Cyprus, Czech Republic, Denmark, Ecuador, Estonia, Finland, Germany, Ghana, Greece, Grenada, Honduras, Hong Kong, Iceland, India, Bulgaria, Italy, Jamaica, Japan, Latvia, Malta, Malaysia, Myanmar, The Netherlands, New Zealand, Pakistan, Peru, Philippines, Puerto Rico, Singapore, Slovakia, South Africa, St. Lucia, Suriname, Switzerland, Taiwan, Trinidad and Tobago, Turkey, Ukraine, United States, Uruguay, Venezuela, Zimbabwe.

We saw lots of local folks today shuffling around elderly ladies too. It's a nice day for reflection. In my own mind, as my mother passed away the year I finished college, my mother will forever remain young.

Originally in WordPerfect V4.2

Combine years of owning computers with librarian-type tendencies, and you've got me figured out. Of course, I've been thinking lots about my father lately. I had him involved in email at the beginning of the millennium but then the hotmail interface changed and he sort of got lost.

During the majority of my years abroad, there was no Internet. In order to send words, we struggled by post. At the present time that era seems a bit romantic. If the mail had no disruptions, it'd take more than two weeks to get to North America from the Middle East. The response time was similar; therefore, there was at least a month turn-around time. Because phone calls could be prohibitively expensive, I was forced to get into the habit of corresponding by letter. Here's a note I sent to my father just about twenty years ago. I found it saved on an old CD entitled, 'Archives'.

---

January 21, 1987
Taif, Saudi Arabia

Dear Dad,

Greetings! As you may be able to tell, I am now using a different word processor. So much of what makes this program great can't be seen on the typed page. It allows you to look through a whole disk worth of files to match an exact word. If I want to know the first letter that I mentioned "AUCTION" in, then all I do is type that word, and it'll search through all 70 odd letters I've got on my correspondence disk! It's really amazing!

As you might be able to tell, I am practicing as much with this letter, as sending useful or important information. You might even say you're my first guinea pig!

Oh, before I forget, I wanted to tell you that you won't be getting anymore bills from Keene State College. I have written and had my address changed so my student loan statements come here. I have to plan so that it'll be paid off by this summer. I might as well send the check from here. Speaking about student loans, you haven't been getting any statements from Sugar River Savings bank, have you? My payments are forwarded there automatically by my Seattle Bank. However, I've told the Newport bank that I want monthly statements SENT HERE. They screwed up my account several months ago and I haven't heard anything since. Give 'em hell, if need be.

I just got your letter today explaining that you are "really getting it" as far as snow is concerned. Great! Wish I were there to play in it.

Things here are O.K. Today ended another hectic week at school. Today some classes had their "student day". So, all the teachers were off, except me. Oh, I work soooo hard!

How is everything in Wendell? It sure is a shame to hear that you're back to work with no chance for vacation for a while. (If you could see me, I'd be frowning.)

I've got my vacation time all planned. In March I do go to Rome from the 19th to the 27th. I might also see Venice with all the canals and such. Anyway, around May 26th, I will be flying back to New York. I get a ticket from the company to Seattle (my point of hire). But I want to spend two weeks with you. Get ready to stock up the refrigerator: I eat like a horse! I'll have to be back at work here at the end of June.

Oops, I'm running out of room. So that's all for now. Take care and be good, etc. I love you.

---

Going 'Ass Over Tea Kettle'

Are you familiar with the meaning of the title? Sometimes I wonder exactly where I get these sayings from. I think a lot of language comes from one's roots. It can be influenced either the geographic location, or the specific family one grows up with.

I think my dad may have used the phrase above. What I was attempting to communicate in the title is that I recently fell down. I was just going for a walk and tripped on some steps near a church of Carnarvon Street. It's very odd that stumbling and hitting the ground is embarrassing. You'd think there'd be many emotions one could feel, but why shame? Anyway, I looked around and saw that nobody had seen.

My pride was intact but I still scraped my knee a bit. It was the type of wound that as I kid I got when I fell off a bicycle. I don't think I've skinned a knee in probably thirty-five years! It didn't bleed a lot, but I knew there would be a fairly large scab.

This fact made me appreciate the human body. Isn't it grand that a body heals? I mean many of us would be a walking basket case were it not for our ability to automatically repair ourselves.

Mystery Image

I like history, especially my own. I also like attempting to clean up old images. In addition, I rather enjoy mysteries.

The photo above was from an old Ektachrome slide. The original wasn't rectangular, so I assume it was shot with a Kodak Instamatic 126 camera. It was in a shoe box of old memorabilia that my dad sent me, so I'd venture that it was from my childhood. It looks like a desert scene, so most probably it was from a road trip to the American Southwest. Yet there are places in British Columbia that look like this and we drove an ancient VW camper from New Hampshire to Alaska when I was about 6 years old. Might this be from that trip?

The scene is too blurry to really make out anything. Is it just a dirt road? My mom usually took the photos. What was it that prompted her to shoot this scene?

A Past Letter Home

Dammam, Saudi Arabia
December 9, 1988

Dear Dad,

I suppose I owe you a letter. I guess that little Christmas Newsletter would not count as a personal note. As I think I scribbled on the back, I shall be leaving Dammam soon. I am going to take up teaching for the Bahraini Defense Force in January. All this is coming about very quickly. (And I haven't signed their contract yet.)

But in a matter of several short weeks, I am flying to Bahrain (a twenty minute flight). This occurs on Wednesday December 28th after I get through with work. How's that for working up to the last minute? Actually, my official contract expired today. The navy uses the Hijra (Moslem) calendar which is 11 days shorter than our Gregorian one. But I gave my thirty day notice on December first, and offered to work the additional two weeks. That thousand dollars will buy a video deck, TV and assorted apartment furnishings. And the time frame worked out well, as it will give me a bit more than a week between jobs.

In Bahrain, I won't be living on military quarters. Instead, they give a monthly housing allowance. So, this will be only the second time in my life that I've hunted for my own dwelling. I am rather excited about the idea of getting out into the "real world" again. These military contracts in Saudi do not offer you the chance to make any of your own decisions. Transportation, food, housing and even spare-time activities are limited to the military's whims. But soon, I'll be forced into the cold reality of self determination.

The pay in Bahrain is about $400/month less than I am earning here. But money is not my most pressing concern now that I've paid every debt. I am more interested in professional advancement and job satisfaction, neither of which are possible at this Navy institute. You might not believe how screwed up things can be here. In the last year class sizes have doubled, and staff has halved. The supervisor is a super weirdo and mentally unbalanced. And my teaching duties have been mainly an attempt to keep tired cadets awake throughout the morning. It has its moments of fun, but it's a whole lot less enjoyable than a year ago.

Bahrain is considered the "Pearl of the Gulf" for a number of reasons. They have a much more open society there. Passport and immigration laws are not as strict and one can enter and leave as often as one wishes. Christian churches are prevalent and attended. There is no prohibition on things such a liquor, pork, or movie theaters. Women even drive cars, travel unveiled, and hold down jobs. I am looking forward to escaping from this crazy job situation to enter a place where life is less controlled.

I don't know my address yet, but I will send it along as soon as I do know it. In case of emergency, I suppose I could be contracted at the Bahrain offices of General Dynamics. You could dial overseas direct to: (966) 530-023 or (966) 530-024. Remember the day starts and finishes eight hours earlier than it does for you. And Thursday and Fridays are our weekends here.

I hope things are O.K. for you. Have you had the chance to play with the snow plow yet. Winter should be coming along nicely now and the wood stove might need stoking right now! If you find the need to write, my mail will be forwarded to Bahrain for several months, so don't use that as an excuse. Behave and stay well.

Your son,

            Dennis

Writing Home Before Email

I've been dredging up the past for several days. Sometimes I'm amazed how much easier it is for us than our ancestors to save and share 'life stuff'. It's easy to turn paper into PDF's. Photos can be shot digitally and old ones scanned. The Net means it can show up instantly anywhere.

Today, I dipped into my archive CD for keystrokes made long ago. I copied junk from old 360K floppies once upon a time. This letter to my father was written about fourteen years ago. The printed version is long gone, but the WordPerfect file opened right up in Word 2003. All data expressed must be viewed in its historical context. For back in 1991, what did I know?

---

Mr. Dennis Sylvester Hurd
Dubai Men's College Faculty
Post Office Box 15825
Dubai, UNITED ARAB EMIRATES

Intl. Telephone: Code 971-4
Work 690029 ext. 306
Fax 691369 Home 369354

October 25, 1991

Dear Dad,

Greetings from Dubai. It has been several weeks since I've written. I really don't have to much to say. But I do want to "appear" to write more regularly than you!

Things are continuing here as expected. I am waiting for my second salary check. It does seem as though October has been a long month. But as far as money, I have already saved as much working here as I would have in a half year in Bahrain. It is nice not to be making payments for an apartment. And think how silly it was to rent a car in Bahrain for over two years!

My car by the way, is running fine. It hasn't been in for it's second free oil change yet because it has only 3,700 kilometers (2,220 miles) on it. When on a long trip I can see why the new, ugly round Chevy Caprices are so popular here. Even in 5th gear, after a few hours you feel a little like you're riding in a wind-up toy. Still for $8,000 it seems like a solid little performer.

The college had grown to big for our one building. So last week, the English staff moved to another building only a quarter of a mile away. It is part of a large apartment building. But the contractors came and redesigned to two floor end of the building into very nice classrooms. Now because of the additional space, I don't have to have all my classes in the afternoon. Rather, I have eight o'clock classes four days a week. Now I have to get up earlier.

It also takes longer to get to work because there's major construction on the bridge which I cross the harbor. Thank god they are taking out the dangerous roundabouts. I don't know why but that's one thing the British always leave behind . . . very treacherous traffic circles.

Of course this place was influenced by the English before. But now America seems to be exerting a lot of influence. I don't think it is necessarily due to the Gulf War. It's just that many UAE nationals now go to the US for university education. And there's the general truth that we as a nation, are much more respectful of people from other countries.

The weather is changing here to the winter. It must be because of the Gulf, but it is somewhat like Seattle. No, the temperature is not in the 40's or 50's. But each morning starts with fog and mist. Stupid me, left my headlights on at the school the other morning. By 4:30pm the battery was very, very dead. No wonder why I like manual transmissions!

So, everything here is all right. I do miss FPO but if I had it I probably would have purchased a $1,000 laser printer mail order. I borrowed one from the school last weekend. How great!

I hope everything's all right with you. Say hi to Dianne and the kids. When are you guys gonna start talking about getting married?

Love always,
Dennis

---

No Date, Just 'Kodak' on the Back

After a hard day teaching, preparing for Sunday's entry generally means dipping into a box of pictures that dad was kind enough to send parcel post.

Here's a precious one, well before my sister came along. Considering the clothes, we were probably at a holiday dinner at my Great Aunt's house in Methuen, Massachusetts. Olive was my grandmother's sister and she married George Krikorian. They moved to Florida when they were still quite young and spent years working and throughout their retirement there. I believe I recall hearing stories that they met in a TB sanitarium. What was that all about? Olive and George both passed on during the decade of the 1990's.

From the photo, just my dad and I are still alive and kicking. Here, my grandmother was to the left and appears quite young. Look at the hairdo and frames my mother was wearing; this was obviously the 1960's! My dad looked a bit bored but somebody must've told me I was quite the handsome and photogenic young man. Don't you think?

Flickr's Fun

Okay, I'll admit that Flickr's fun. It's full of configurable options and basically feels cool. It makes one quickly feel like a part of a vast network of image makers and collectors. Click the screen image here to see 20 images in my recently uploaded Beautiful BC collection.

Yesterday, I got a package from my dad. I had asked him to mail old slides to me. My mom used to take Kodachrome shots when we were on trips. For example, I wondered if he'd be able to find anything from our 1965 trip in a Volkswagon bus from New Hamsphire to Alaska. I really only recall the stories told by others as it was the year I started first grade. In fact, I believe I was a few days late for the start of classes as that's the only time my dad was able to arrange vacation time. The postman's delivery arrived with slides as well as other junk. There were quite a few fading paper prints too. Now, I'll have things to scan and include here over the next little while.

Perhaps this is why Flickr is so intriguing to me at the moment. In theory, a child born today can have a digital record of everyday life. There could be a universal image repository with tags for searching. It could grow to contain an entire lifetime of images and be easily accessible from any computer. My recently-arrived box full of yellowing parchment and dyes seems like such an anachronism.

(I should give my father some credit, instead of cushioning things with environmentally-unfriendly Styrofoam popcorn, he sent the items sandwiched between rolls of toilet paper. That's an added bonus that will keep on giving!)

Former Screens

Yesterday's public declaration of love to my TV, started me thinking about televisions of my past. I don't remember what would've played on the big boy to the left. I was obviously happy with something though. I'm also having a tough time remembering my dad when he was younger than my current age.

Image Search: 1987

Yesterday's entry prompted me to return to my photo suitcase. This is the only way I'll ever be able to write an autobiography; apparently, one disorganized blog entry at a time!

The photo to the right was from the actual Thanksgiving weekend mentioned in the letter below. The father, Joel, is older and undoubtedly wiser; while the daughter is now attending university in Washington, DC.

I was able to find images that matched yesterday's entry. I guess I'm more organized than I thought. Imagine how many places these pictures have been in the intervening years! Moreover, imagine what a horrible pack rat I'd be if I had settled into an actual house with copious closet and storage space!

The picture below was also taken in 1987 at my apartment near the SeaTac airport.

Since the scanner was set up, I just had to capture one other image from earlier that fall. It is a larger photograph showing the car in which my dad and I travelled from New Hampshire. It was in a parking lot when we visited Mt. Rainier National Park.



If I keep adding images at such a harried pace, I'll have to upgrade my server space before the summer!

History Bytes

This blog has been a tad historical lately, hasn't it? Wait, here's more! I was trying to organize my CD/DVD archive discs and I came across a directory of files written in 1986. These were typed on my very first IBM compatible in Taif, Saudi Arabia. Originally saved on a 360K floppy disk, these keystrokes were made 18 years ago in WordStar. My current copy of Office 2003 opened them with ease. Here's a letter I sent to my father:

---

Siyanco SOCP 06

Box R-168
APO, New York 09017

December 18th 6:30am

Dear Dad,

I'm sure that this letter won't get to you before Christmas.
The APO mail DOES slow during this time of year. It may take
several weeks to get there. But that's nothing. I just got a
wedding invitation from a girl in Sunapee. She sent it "interna-
tional mail" and included only 22 cents postage. It took three
months and one day to arrive!

This is the 'thirteenth' computer letter that I've sent
to you. Although you won't be able to tell, I'm writing this on a
new version of word-processing program. This WordStar improved
version cost me $1.33 as a copying fee. It retails for $170 in
the States!

I haven't done many interesting things lately. You know how
life is: Get up, go to work, and sleep. Oh yeah, I forgot the
eating part. Even though I haven't been pigging-out, I must buy
size 34' pants, AGAIN! That's O.K., I look better with a little
meat on me. (How trim are you?) Next week, on Christmas day,
there's an Interdenominational Christmas Service at the McDonnell-
Douglas Company (the aircraft people). In the afternoon I have
volunteered to bring a few company employees to Jeddah to catch
their flight for vacation time. Why, not? It's better than
sitting around here all afternoon.

A whole lot of people left from here yesterday. There are
many people who like to be home during the Christmas season. I
would too, but I am looking forward to vacation in the spring.
Maybe prepare for a teaching job in the Seattle area? See, you
will be able to take a trip out the the PAC NORTHWEST to see me.
It really is a nice place.

My car is sitting outside with a little problem. Last week
my battery was dead. At first I thought I had left on the
parking lights or something stupid like that. But upon closer
inspection, I discovered that the adjustment for the brake light
switch was off. Essentially the circuit was open all the time.
Hence, no juice. My Delco Freedom Battery is now all charged up
and ready to reinstall. Isn't it fun owning old junks? Oh, I
forgot, you don't anymore. Still, I wish they made new cars like
that old, blue Dodge Dart that we had for a while. (Back
before they'd screwed up the old slant 6's.) Why do people think
that cars are something more than t r a n s p o r t a t i o n ?

Enough editorial content, I have got to get ready for
breakfast. Just wanted to say "hi". Get ready for 1987. (It
sounds like something out of a Science Fiction book.) I love
you. Your son,

---

Chevy SSR: Is it a truck?

Some guys my age run out and buy themselves a Porche. I'm grateful that I don't have the means for such a useless extravagance! Actually, if I had more cash than I knew what to do with, I still don't think I'd own a swank vehicle.

In my mind, pieces of metal with attached wheels are simply transportation. Could this belief have germinated because dad provided me with a Ford Pinto in high school? Being able to get to another place was more important than the style in which it was accomplished. (Actually, simply getting there and back was sometimes an accomplishment!)

Don't even get me started talking about the fools who buy more car than they can afford and then have to work their butts off to pay for it (while it only sits in the parking lot when they are working.)

I do like the look of the Chevy SSR though. I think the design of the SSR reminds me of a Pug puppy; it's so ugly it's cute. One is even my current Windows wallpaper. Maybe when I decide to replace my 1996 Ranger in 2012, there will be cool new vehicles on the road.

I always thought by then I'd own a little spaceship like the Jetsons had!