Gee, our old … Nash ran great!
The Linguidiot: “OK, all this ‘Nashing’ has brought back a favorite college memory.
“In the late ’60s, my budget allowed exactly $90 to spend on a car. I bought a 1959 red-and-white Nash Rambler.
“It had excellent front brakes, but the ones in back were more than suspect. Whenever I hit the brake pedal, the front stopped on a dime; the back kept rolling for a bit. This would cause the roof to actually wrinkle a bit and make a distinct crinkling sound.
“My girlfriend at the time — who, thank the fates, is now my wife — and I often doubled with our friends Bert and Alita. Bert was a German exchange student who saw that Rambler as a great amusement-park ride. He’d never want us to reach our destination. He wanted to spend the night riding around, finding every possible excuse to stop, after each of which he’d yell with childish excitement: ‘Again, again. Do it again!’
“Every time I see an old Nash or hear a reference to one, I can hear that heavily accented German command. Best $90 I ever spent.”
![Gee, our old … Nash ran great! (Plus!) NO SUED NAME reports: “We had a Nash back in the mid-’50s. When The Old Dad in St. Paul told about his 1949 Nash [BB, 8/18/2016], I had to Google it to see if it looked like ours. His description sure sounded familiar. I’m pretty sure we had a 1950 Nash Ambassador sedan (above). He was thrilled with his mileage; I was thrilled because I got an actual seat! We didn’t have a car very often, and the last one we had had before the BIG Nash was a 1939 Plymouth coupe (below), which had only a front seat! My dad built a wooden box that he put behind the front seat, and I sat on that. No seat belt — heck, no seat! He did put a board across the box halfway down, so I had a footrest — sort of. I was only 4 or 5 years old at that time, but I was 11 to 13 when we had the Nash. I loved the back seat, and didn’t give a whit what the outside looked like. Memories.”](https://i2.wp.com/www.twincities.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/08/160823bbcut-50nash.jpg?w=620&crop=0%2C0px%2C100%2C9999px)
Gee, our old … Nash ran great! (Plus!)
NO SUED NAME reports: “We had a Nash back in the mid-’50s. When The Old Dad in St. Paul told about his 1949 Nash [BB, 8/18/2016], I had to Google it to see if it looked like ours. His description sure sounded familiar. I’m pretty sure we had a 1950 Nash Ambassador sedan (below). He was thrilled with his mileage; I was thrilled because I got an actual seat! We didn’t have a car very often, and the last one we had had before the BIG Nash was a 1939 Plymouth coupe (above), which had only a front seat! My dad built a wooden box that he put behind the front seat, and I sat on that. No seat belt — heck, no seat! He did put a board across the box halfway down, so I had a footrest — sort of. I was only 4 or 5 years old at that time, but I was 11 to 13 when we had the Nash. I loved the back seat, and didn’t give a whit what the outside looked like. Memories.”
Ready to rumble! (responsorial)
Or: Then & Now
Pam … used to be Peltier: “Subject: Not quite a rumble seat…
“When I was in the seventh and eighth grades (1964-1965), I attended St. Jerome’s Catholic grade school in Maplewood. We had a boys’ basketball team that went to other schools in the area for games. Our teacher, Mr. Hillscamp, drove a VW Bug. Each week, three kids were picked to go with him to the games … in his car. I got to go EVERY TIME because I was the only one in the class who fit into that little space behind the back seats. I was very petite (at the time). Back then, there were no safety rules or seat belts. In today’s world, this would NEVER have happened.”
Now & Then
Bill of Lake St. Croix Beach: “Subject: The old days.
“Last week, we visited the small Iowa town of West Bend, where there’s the amazing and intriguing Grotto of the Redemption, aptly called the Eighth Wonder of the World. Beginning in 1912, a Catholic priest spent over 40 years toiling to build it, using precious stones and materials from around the world.
“Anyway, while driving through the town, we noticed a quaint, downtown ice cream parlor and stopped in and were immediately transported back many decades to the good old days. There was a soda fountain, with a dozen or so vinyl-covered stools, and the traditional way of serving malts: in large metal containers with separate glasses that could be filled twice.
“I asked one of the two women if they made banana splits. She said: ‘Yes, but I’ll have to go next door and buy a banana.’ Skip the banana. I ordered a two-scoop hot-fudge sundae, served in a heavy tulip glass. My wife and son ordered single-scoop sundaes. Total bill: $7. The serving-lady ‘soda jerks’ were very friendly, welcoming and unassuming.
“The cash register was so ancient, it did not work — but served to make change from the always-open drawer.
“Many store shelves were loaded with Watkins products.
“Just … Wow!”
The sign on the road to the cemetery said ‘Dead End’
Church Board Division
Red’s Offspring, north of St. Paul: “Subject: High-octane fuel.
“With a nod to Ghoti’s Mom, here is the latest message on the electronic board at the church on Lexington in Shoreview:
“ ‘RUNNING LOW ON FAITH?
“ ‘STOP IN FOR A FILL-UP’ ”
A thought for today
Tim Torkildson: “Dirty fingers do the most pointing.”
Come again?
Another episode of creative hearing, reported by Friendly Bob of Fridley: “Watching (or at least listening to) a police/forensic show on TV. Thought I heard them say there was a crime in the NSP area.
“Huh? There is no NSP anymore. Listened more closely. Venice Beach area. Oh.
“Now where did I put that ear-wax remover?”
Highfalutin amazements
And: Simple displeasures
Christy of Menomonie, Wis.: “I was reading about the newest robotic space explorer when the article mentioned that the robot is washing-machine-sized.
“My first reaction was: ‘I’ve used a few washing machines I would have liked to blast into space.’
“The usual suspects were malfunctioning laundromat washers that could shred sheets, or paint white soap streaks on anything black, or leave so much water in clothes that the drying part emptied your coin purse.
“The worst machine I encountered was a brand-new one in a rental unit. The first time I used it, in its enclosed laundry room, the washer hopped around so much that it lodged the door shut from the inside. I could not shove the door open. It wouldn’t budge. My clothes were being held hostage by a maniacal machine!
“Now that was one mean machine I would have volunteered for space. It already had attempted liftoff on its own.”
Our machines, ourselves
IGHGrampa: “We just came from the car wash after supper at a restaurant.
“We sometimes get fooled by the car wash. We usually go to a touchless car wash, with the things moving beside the car to spray soap, water, wax and all. We will be sitting in the car, with engine idling, in Park. Suddenly we think the car is moving. ‘Whoops!’ we say as we step on the brake pedal. Then we realize it wasn’t the car that was moving, but the car-wash things.
“It’s always a relief to know we weren’t about to wreck something.”
Band Name of the Day: The Maniacal Machines
Website of the Day: The Grotto of the Redemption, at westbendgrotto.com
