“Birdie num nums”
This is a bumpy journey through Hollywood satire, in an outdated car, with a coughing engine, and holes rusted through the floor. We cringe while banking every corner, and hold our breath as it sputters and wheezes up every steep incline. But, she was a real cherry at one time, smooth as silk and a paint job as pristine as a calm, cloudless sky. And we think about who the first owners of this car were. Did they proudly display it in their driveway for their neighbors to jealously grin and gather around? “She’s a real beaut!”
There are a hundred stories written in every pock mark in the hood and squeal of the steering column. Stories from a time of loose tongues and blind eyes. Where a laugh was just a laugh, and pure no matter the context. I laugh, and you laugh, and we hope the car never sputters to a coughing halt.