Wonder Wench Writes – About Dick’s Sunday Blog

Hmmm … do ya suppose it’s age that makes him keep repeating himself? Tire marks in the garage? Uh, uh … more like nicks on the edge of the garage door from where he hit it trying to back out in a hurry because he was late (as usual) for an appointment. Now I will admit that I like speed … I once owned a 1965 Mustang (the best year they ever had, except for Shelby’s) and that car got me a gymkhana trophy for speed. But I don’t ignore the speed limits nowadays (well, not much) and when you have a lovely car to show off … which I do … well, you kind of have to show it off, right? 

Yes, we went to New Jersey and yes, I followed the speed limit (mostly) … but I never hit anyone and if he had let go of his death grip on the door handle he might even have enjoyed the swift passage of trees … and other stuff. 

It’s like flying, Louie Louie Lad of my own – the need for speed is exponentially increased by the power of the engine beneath the hood – or cowling. If you can zoom across space singing “It’s a lovely day today” then I can grin and take the curves with a certain glee … while one foot hovers just above the brake pedal. What is it, Big Louie, a certain chauvinism that says women can’t handle cars … or planes … with the same verve and talent as you all? 

Watch me …

3 Responses to “Wonder Wench Writes – About Dick’s Sunday Blog”

  1. Betsy says:

    Haha, good one LWW!!

  2. Sheri says:

    That’s the way to tell him. I too like speed… liked it better when my car had a manual transmission..and sometimes I think the “speed limit” is just a suggestion… except here on base… this is the only place that I do not speed!

  3. ralph b says:

    before the last of my family in the Boston area passed away I would drive north every year mid July to spend a month or more. Every year I would pick up a speeding ticket along the way. Locally I never speed on the interstate or anywhere. Finally with the price of gas and the price of speeding tickets I decided to fly. Also this old body no longer reacts well to hours in the saddle.