“Boys, guess what I drove home.”

maxies-showroom-red-and-white-vettes
Two Beauties

“Boys, guess what I drove home.”

My Dad worked for car dealers while I was growing up in Statesboro, Georgia. He began at a Toyota dealership, then transferred to another marquee, Chevrolet.  Subsequent moves to the local Ford and Dodge dealers whet my appetite for automobiles.  Dad would often leave with the family car in the morning and show up for supper with another ride that was a “steal of a deal” or, in other words, the used car manager knew nobody else would buy it.

AMC Pacer, AMC Gremlin, & two big arse Pontiac Woodies

We ended up with a an AMC Pacer, an AMC Gremlin, and two Pontiac Station Wagons with big V-8 engines that some college professor traded in…Dad couldn’t resist the faux wood glued to the side slabs of the tanks and came home with both of them.  Those cars set him back about $150…yes, for…two…automobiles.  We parked them end-to-end in the back yard in Edgewood Acres.  Subsequently, Mr. Hubert Clark, our next door neighbor built a wooden fence for “privacy”…and to keep me and my brother out of his pool and from chasing his pretty daughter, Rosemary.

Keg Parties next door in Edgewood Acres 

Mr. Bob Worthington, our other neighbor, took the eyesores in stride. He just invited Father Lucree and some of the (From The Land of Black Socks and Sandals) Catholic Brigade in Edgewood Acres for a keg party and 27 successive renditions of “Michael Row the Boat Ashore” on Saturday night after Mass.  Of course, I think Mr. Bob enjoyed sticking it to Dad knowing that the soft acoustic guitar and those out-of-tune harmonies floating in through the screened-in windows were keeping the owner of Edgewood’s biggest fleet of used automobiles from enjoying a good night’s sleep.  After all, my Baptist preacher Dad had to be ready to throw some brimstone in the fire on Sunday morning.  And, after a bad night’s sleep, he had no problem throwing more wood on that smoldering pile.

“..take a ride, ride, ride, ride on Heavy Metal…(and fiberglass)”

One of our neighbors, Mr. Kenny Stone, was a newly minted lawyer from the University of Georgia.  As a reward for passing the bar, he got married and bought a Corvette…a ’78 or ’79.  He’s a friendly guy and babied that black beauty.  Like every one of my first kisses with a neighborhood honey, I plainly remember that I only managed to snag a ride in that C3 once…the first time I had ever graced the seat of a ‘Vette.  Sweet; it smelled good…had red leather and, man, were we low to the ground!  I didn’t mind being bitten by the Mako Shark-inspired design and I’ve wanted a 1980-1982 ever since.

 “Volare'” and…the F-U-R-Y

and the Plymouth “Hell Hath No” Fury for style.  One time, Dad “accidentally” backed the Fury into my Mama’s car twice…within ten seconds apart.  He didn’t drink at all and I can only guess that he was going to test-drive another Chrysler laden with “Rich Corinthian Leather” aka Pitted Vinyl with Vaseline smeared on it.  Enjoy the Plymouth Fury commercial with Arthur Godfrey and then relive the olfactory paradise that drove women wild in the Cordoba.  Just deliver those sweet nothings to your lady with that smooth Ricardo Montalban’ accent and…steamy windows here we come!

A 1967 Mercury Cougar and a 1967 Ford Mustang…ones that got away

I still have an affinity for vehicles and yeah, we had a bunch of four doors that fit all of us since we were a very close family. The ‘Vette’s were a totally impractical choice for our ride but we did have a pretty burgundy ’67 Ford Mustang and a metallic green ’67 Mercury Cougar whose only blemish was a front seat that had a few small cracks.  A little old lady really did have own the Merc and it was gorgeous to be twenty years old.  Dad still regrets selling both of these.  They were fun to drive and had nice lines and we loved cruising around in them.  It’s funny but I can remember how that Cougar seemed almost new inside and out.  I think I’m gonna be sick.

Here’s a commercial for the ’67 Cougar…Motor Trend’s Car of the Year. It’s got the big cat (a cougar, I guess) that growls. I always liked those ads.

And for those of you who bothered to read this far, here’s a commercial for a Mercury Cougar with Farrah Fawcett Majors:

 

 

The Beaver House in Statesboro…go hungry; you won’t be disappointed.

"Bob Conley", "Linda Conley", "Mark Conley", "John Conley", "Beaver House", Statesboro John Conley, Linda Conley, Mark Conley, and Bob Conley at The Beaver House in Statesboro, Georgia

Man, was I stuffed and my bro even ate more than I did. How many times has that been said at The Beaver House over the years?

Yesterday, I made a quick run down to Statesboro to pick up a brand new order of notebooks from Randy Lewis at Lewis Color. This is embarrassing but I got lost leaving Waynesboro. Instead of taking 25 going south to Millen, I took another turn off the bypass at Waynesboro and after a couple of more turns ended up in Sardis. My, navigation system (aka my wife) was on the phone with me while she checked out Google Maps online back at the ranch. Sardis does have police so don’t think you can bust it through there.

The family finally sat down to lunch (here’s the menu) at The Beaver House by about 1:30 p.m. The crowd had thinned out and we had a friendly college girl wait on us. After getting some sweet tea in a real glass, here comes the homemade biscuits, the mashed potatos (and gravy…chicken or steak…I don’t know), green beans, macaroni and cheese, butter beans, and some country fried steak and fried chicken that will give your Mama’s a run for the money, honey.

Mrs. Sue and Clay are cookin’ up this grub everyday. Make sure you’re hungry.

Beaver House Restaurant on Urbanspoon

John Robert Conley Atlanta restaurants

Memories of Frank Hook at “The Rec. Department” in Statesboro

How many Mamas and Daddys have been through here on the way to the Rec Department? Photo courtesy of Hunter-Desportes.

Georgia Southern’s online magazine has a cool article about retiring Alumni Relations Director and Mr. GSU, Frank Hook.  It’s not often that I’m quoted for anything but when I was contacted last year seeking permission for using my comments regarding Frank helping out an old mutual friend, I was quick to say yes, of course.

I first met Frank when I began playing baseball and football at the Statesboro Recreation Department when I was about ten years of age.  I tried basketball for one year and, yes, I couldn’t jump…or shoot…or pass.  “Lucky Sevens” has not had a reunion since I graduated from that group in 1973.  Of course, the highlight of most of my buddies that year was to see who could put out a fire with his pee.  I lost.

Frank just had a way of relating to everybody.  He talked to us kids like we were somebody worthwhile and he was positive in his rapport…oh yeah, and he had killer legs.  Frank and his brother, Bob (a Rec Department Coach), were both muscular and had plenty of hair…not just on their heads but all over their legs and arms.  For a little kid, it was kinda intimidating.  What did these guys eat to grow hair like that?  Snooky’s buffett, Vandy’s barbeque or Brunswick stew? Maybe it was “Stacy’s Special” at Webb’s Nic Nac Grill.  I’ll have to ask.

Statesboro and Georgia Southern have been fortunate to have a man like Frank taking on the responsibilities that he has.  Mr. GSU has a lot more powerful, influential, and wealthier friends than me.

However, he took the time to respond to a request from someone who he hadn’t heard from in probably twenty years.  An old friend was in a bad spot and Frank’s one of the first people that I thought “he’ll help.”  And he did and he will continue to do so because that’s the kind of person he is.