03-16-2019, 02:15 PM
Join Date: Nov 2014
Hey, my dad had 1965 Sport Fury Plymouth--also with a push button automatic transmission.
A few years ago, before my dad moved south, my wife and I went home to see him and mom. He had a cardboard box there. He told me it had stuff in it from me and my brother, and we should sort out our stuff.
Magically (and in my guilt) he took out a set of keys, the kind they cut for you at hardware stores. There was one bright red aluminum key next to a bright blue aluminum key. I told him they were mine.
My dad looked stern for a moment, and then looking up announced, "These fit a Mopar, you drive Fords."
"Well," I admitted, "They were cut to fit your '65."
My dad stopped again, "I never let you drive that car! It had a huge motor! In fact, I took the keys to Italy on business while you were still in high school!"
"That's why I had them cut," I admitted, "I drag-raced that car for two solid weeks--ate up every go-faster in Menomonee Falls!"
My dad closed his eyes in resolute pain, "Oh, that explains it..."
He settled back and continued, "When I got back from Italy, I walked past the Mopar. I saw fabric coming through the sidewall of the rear left tire. I called Tom Kennedy Chrysler Plymouth and gave those boys hell!"
He leaned forward and smiled, "I made them replace those tires for free..."
Then he gave me that 'fatherly' stare that would melt titanium, "I made them replace those tires TWICE...and it wasn't them, it was YOU!"
I actually said in defense, "Yeah, dad, but over 20 years ago..."
...No matter where you are it's enemy territory...
Last edited by The Tourist; 03-16-2019 at 02:21 PM.