Good Morning Gentle Readers,
The Old Man had a sweet '53 Chevy convertible when I was a kid that he used to call a Cop Magnet. It was a red Bel Air and slicker than cat you-know-what. Because my folks were yet to be enlightened by the annointed, I sometimes rode standing up in the back seat when the top was down. Don't know how I survived it.
And the worst beatin' I ever got was for unzipping the back window on a warm winter afternoon. With sunset, the temperatures plummeted and Dad just couldn't get the window zipped back up. Guess he wasn't impressed with the prospect of driving to work at zero dark thirty in twenty degree weather with the back window open to the breeze. Lordy. I thought I'd seen the end of my short life.
In retrospect, the car seemed a little out of character for him too as he wasn't much for crowing.
As Number One Son, Jake, would say, it was tight. Dad and Mom and I looked cool as cucumbers cruising around on hot summer days.
The car looked pretty much like this (asking price: 37 Large) and we were all a little sad when the man with a fist full of cash drove it away that Sunday morning before church.
Long way around the barn to say that when Ma was here last week she gave me the 1959 registration to that Chevy.
Four Bucks it cost the Old Man to buy the 1959 tags on a six year old car.
So, I do the math, and in today's dollars the entire cost to register that six year old car should be (drum roll) $25.55.
Hey, I've got a five year old car. My fee was $168.00 AFTER the car tax rollback that reduced DMV fees by two thirds. Almost SEVEN times as much, and we rejoiced that it wasn't the $500.00 we were expecting. And the roads still suck, Boy Howdy, let's give Sacramento more money.
Californicate may be the poster child of what happens when Reefer Madness meets government spending, but all of this is coming to your town soon.
TWC recomends across-the-board NO on every Californicate spending proposition on the ballot this year. If they were your kids you would have cut them off a long time ago.