The Horse At The Exxon!

These photos I just posted of the 1962 Ford Falcon jogs my memory to my mother telling me that when I was a little boy, my father had insisted that we go the local Livestock Auction on one particular day.  Naturally, as my father's habits would go, he got plastered on booze and ended up buying a pony for me at the Livestock Auction.  Well  he didn't have a truck. There was no one there to deliver it to the farm for him.  So what did he do?  Yes, being a drunk genious as he typically was after a trip to the "Coffee Cup Cafe" and the Livestock Market, he removes the rear seat of our $10 Ford Falcon Futura, ties it down in the trunk, and loads the pony in the area where the rear seat was removed.  He rolls down the window so that the pony can stick its head out the window to fit in the car.  Off to Mendota we go, a beautiful woman, a $10 car, and a pony with its head out the window.  (I'M ROLLING WITH LAUGHTER AND TEARS AS I WRITE THIS ENTRY).

Naturally as well, Bristol being 20-30 miles from this Livestock Auction, mother being the "designated driver" (an uncoined term at the time) had to stop in at the gas station and get fuel.  This was in the days of complimentary full-service.  The station attendant comes out and replies to mother when she says "fill it up", with "which end should I fill up, the car or the horse?"   (MOTHER QUIT THAT CACKLING RIGHT NOW.  I know you're here with me.  I love it when you cackle.  That look on your face is priceless. --- mother just arrived here to enjoy this entry with me as I write it.)

I recall how silly my mother would get when she would reflect back on that story.  I can see my drunken father now, sitting there on the passenger side of the car wtih his elbow out the window and his hat falling over his eyes and talking all his drunken shit with a jealous accusatory slur.