Broken Street Rod Dream

Larry and I were traveling south of here taking left and right turns on gravel roads just looking for old project cars. We stopped in here because of the sad deserted street rod alone on weeded lot. The house looked vacant but we left our card and asked the owner to give us a call. Then we stopped in at a place about a mile down the road and asked those folks about the street rod and who we might call to ask about it. "He's a truck driver," said the chubby but sweet farmer, "gone most of the time. Just got a divorce, you know." No, we didn't know. But these pictures speak a thousands words about how life takes big turns and dreams are knocked down. Whoever the man was who worked on the street rod, we could just tell he loved doing it. We could see his broken heart and dying hope as we stood there silently by his unfinished project. But it was getting dark and we, as usually, we basically lost, which never bothers us because who cares? All we do when we get lost is head the car in the general vacinity of home and push the gas pedal.