46000 posts here!!!!

[Tom Bredehoft]

Bob, forget a couple of novels, this is non-fiction. Its serious stuff. Anybody can write novels, just visit your library.

[img=left]http://www.alink.com/personal/tbredehoft/Bothcars.jpg[/img=left]
Tom Bredehoft
'53 Commander Coupe
'60 Lark VI
'05 Legacy Ltd Wagon
All three Indiana built OD cars

[Tom Bredehoft]

Bob, forget a couple of novels, this is non-fiction. Its serious stuff. Anybody can write novels, just visit your library.

[img=left]http://www.alink.com/personal/tbredehoft/Bothcars.jpg[/img=left]
Tom Bredehoft
'53 Commander Coupe
'60 Lark VI
'05 Legacy Ltd Wagon
All three Indiana built OD cars

[rockne10]

It was a dark and slippery R2 that sliced through the morning fog on Mulholland.
"Leave me a loan", she cried.
"How much would you like? Five hundred? A thousand? I know those gams ain't free", I replied, knowing I was being cruel. I had picked her up in Encino and we were...


Sorry about that.

[rockne10]

It was a dark and slippery R2 that sliced through the morning fog on Mulholland.
"Leave me a loan", she cried.
"How much would you like? Five hundred? A thousand? I know those gams ain't free", I replied, knowing I was being cruel. I had picked her up in Encino and we were...


Sorry about that.

[stude freak]

Manomaniac make 2 copies i want one .Then when i m feeling down all i gotta do is look up and laugh.Will pay cash or check.
Then i'll get Bob to autograph it.

David Baggett Mantachie,Ms.

[stude freak]

Manomaniac make 2 copies i want one .Then when i m feeling down all i gotta do is look up and laugh.Will pay cash or check.
Then i'll get Bob to autograph it.

David Baggett Mantachie,Ms.

[Roscomacaw]

OK Art - here we go! You print 'em, I'll sign 'em and we'll get 20 bucks a pop. Limited edition run of only 100.[:0][}]



I'd been driving 'cross the broiling damned desert for almost four hours straight. With all four windows down and the vents cocked open, the drumming of the wind at 60 miles 'n hour was the only music to be had. What few stations had enough power to reach out into the badlands would only taunt you with bits of a given song before some other station pushed them aside. You'd go from Pattie Page to some goofy revivalist and then onto an ad for the all-new '55s from Studebaker. I chose to just listen to the Commander's V8 and the whitewalls on the blacktop.
Somewhere into the drive, I started to detect a small noise thru the constant rumble of it all. So long as the road rolled on, I'd stay with it. If the car gave out on me, I'd have to hope for the kindness of some stranger. There were seemingly endless miles of nothing but sand and scrub.
The noise started to bother me as it ever-so-slightly made itself more evident thru the wind tympanny. It set me to wondering just HOW LONG I'd have to stand with my thumb out before someone would take pity on me. It wasn't a pretty prospect.
The road ahead started to undulate as it wandered left 'n right over a rise from the lowlands. As I crested one small hill, I caught sight of a sign a ways ahead. The road dipped and it was gone. When the blacktop rose again, I could see it was an Oasis gas station. One of them "You're in the middle of NOWHERE and we gotcha!" kind of places.
Visions of a cold beer played in my head as I let off the gas. I could almost FEEL the cool glass of the bottleneck as it made love to my dried and cracking lips. Of course, at this point, a tin cup of tepid water would be just as sweet. I started to smile at the prospect of something to drink, but stopped when my lips pained at the grin.
As the Commander dropped out of overdrive, I could finally see some of the signs near the pumps. Damned thieves! Ninety-two cents a gallon for regular and eight cents more for Ethyl! Of course, they had ya! It was that or offer yourself as buzzard bait!
Next to the pump, I stood up and wrenched the kinks from my back. I slammed the Stude's door shut and slapped at my pants to beat the dust off of me. I never even heard the little guy with the dirty gray togs as he waddled around from in front of the car....
"Check that oil fer ya mister?" he asked as he squinted up at me and shaded his gaze with one hand.
"No - oil's fine. Just gimmee 10 bucks a regular an sumpin' to drink."
"Sure thing pal. Are ya not goin' all the way to Cactus junction? Reas'n I ask is cause 10 bucks ain't gonna git ya there and I ain't aware of any other destinashun 'tween here 'n there."

Makin' sure there was no mistakin' my notion, I asked, "Whaddya sayin' pal - are ya sayin' ten bucks worth really ain't ten bucks worth out here?"

"Naw - naw - 'taint like that et all. It's just that it takes a mighty thrifty car to squeeze them many miles outta ten gallons o' gas! That's all I was meanin'.
Naw, you go on in the shack there an git yerself a drink from the cooler. Danged heat'll make a guy lose track of reality out here right quick. Gotta keep yersef hy-drated er ya gets ta doin' goofy things! Kinda like an ol' feller like me tryin' to make a buck out here in this god-fer-sakin' hell hole.... heh - heh - heh!"

I half-heartedly returned his phony chuckle as I pushed past the shack door and spotted the Coca-Cola cooler towards the back. I lifted the lid and surveyed the offerings therein. Christ - I'd never SEEN any place that wanted a whole damned quarter for a bottle of soda pop!
I stabbed to the depths of one pocket for some coins while my other hand grabbed at one of the few visible pieces of ice that still floated in the cold water the bottles were immersed in. I pressed the sliver of ice to my parched lips and revelled in how soothing it was against the cracked skin.
In seconds the ice was gone and without too much conci

[Roscomacaw]

OK Art - here we go! You print 'em, I'll sign 'em and we'll get 20 bucks a pop. Limited edition run of only 100.[:0][}]



I'd been driving 'cross the broiling damned desert for almost four hours straight. With all four windows down and the vents cocked open, the drumming of the wind at 60 miles 'n hour was the only music to be had. What few stations had enough power to reach out into the badlands would only taunt you with bits of a given song before some other station pushed them aside. You'd go from Pattie Page to some goofy revivalist and then onto an ad for the all-new '55s from Studebaker. I chose to just listen to the Commander's V8 and the whitewalls on the blacktop.
Somewhere into the drive, I started to detect a small noise thru the constant rumble of it all. So long as the road rolled on, I'd stay with it. If the car gave out on me, I'd have to hope for the kindness of some stranger. There were seemingly endless miles of nothing but sand and scrub.
The noise started to bother me as it ever-so-slightly made itself more evident thru the wind tympanny. It set me to wondering just HOW LONG I'd have to stand with my thumb out before someone would take pity on me. It wasn't a pretty prospect.
The road ahead started to undulate as it wandered left 'n right over a rise from the lowlands. As I crested one small hill, I caught sight of a sign a ways ahead. The road dipped and it was gone. When the blacktop rose again, I could see it was an Oasis gas station. One of them "You're in the middle of NOWHERE and we gotcha!" kind of places.
Visions of a cold beer played in my head as I let off the gas. I could almost FEEL the cool glass of the bottleneck as it made love to my dried and cracking lips. Of course, at this point, a tin cup of tepid water would be just as sweet. I started to smile at the prospect of something to drink, but stopped when my lips pained at the grin.
As the Commander dropped out of overdrive, I could finally see some of the signs near the pumps. Damned thieves! Ninety-two cents a gallon for regular and eight cents more for Ethyl! Of course, they had ya! It was that or offer yourself as buzzard bait!
Next to the pump, I stood up and wrenched the kinks from my back. I slammed the Stude's door shut and slapped at my pants to beat the dust off of me. I never even heard the little guy with the dirty gray togs as he waddled around from in front of the car....
"Check that oil fer ya mister?" he asked as he squinted up at me and shaded his gaze with one hand.
"No - oil's fine. Just gimmee 10 bucks a regular an sumpin' to drink."
"Sure thing pal. Are ya not goin' all the way to Cactus junction? Reas'n I ask is cause 10 bucks ain't gonna git ya there and I ain't aware of any other destinashun 'tween here 'n there."

Makin' sure there was no mistakin' my notion, I asked, "Whaddya sayin' pal - are ya sayin' ten bucks worth really ain't ten bucks worth out here?"

"Naw - naw - 'taint like that et all. It's just that it takes a mighty thrifty car to squeeze them many miles outta ten gallons o' gas! That's all I was meanin'.
Naw, you go on in the shack there an git yerself a drink from the cooler. Danged heat'll make a guy lose track of reality out here right quick. Gotta keep yersef hy-drated er ya gets ta doin' goofy things! Kinda like an ol' feller like me tryin' to make a buck out here in this god-fer-sakin' hell hole.... heh - heh - heh!"

I half-heartedly returned his phony chuckle as I pushed past the shack door and spotted the Coca-Cola cooler towards the back. I lifted the lid and surveyed the offerings therein. Christ - I'd never SEEN any place that wanted a whole damned quarter for a bottle of soda pop!
I stabbed to the depths of one pocket for some coins while my other hand grabbed at one of the few visible pieces of ice that still floated in the cold water the bottles were immersed in. I pressed the sliver of ice to my parched lips and revelled in how soothing it was against the cracked skin.
In seconds the ice was gone and without too much conci

[monomaniac]

You're unbelievable, Mr. Biggs!

[monomaniac]

You're unbelievable, Mr. Biggs!

[stude freak]

Uh-oh I think i started something here.Now by the time everyone gets their cut that pic will cost 49.95 plus tax and shipping .Maybe a caption that says"The thrill of riding in a Studebaker". LMAO

David Baggett Mantachie,Ms.

[stude freak]

Uh-oh I think i started something here.Now by the time everyone gets their cut that pic will cost 49.95 plus tax and shipping .Maybe a caption that says"The thrill of riding in a Studebaker". LMAO

David Baggett Mantachie,Ms.

[Guido]

quote:Originally posted by Mr.Biggs

OK Art - here we go! You print 'em, I'll sign 'em and we'll get 20 bucks a pop. Limited edition run of only 100.[:0][}]

Is this the same as a Franklin Mint limited edition of 100?


Guido Salvage - "Where rust is beautiful"

Studebaker horse drawn buggy; 1946 M-16 fire truck; 1948 M-16 grain truck; 1949 2R16A grain truck; 1949 2R17A fire truck; 1950 2R5 pickup; 1952 2R17A grain truck; 1952 Packard 200 4 door; 1955 E-38 grain truck; 1957 3E-40 flatbed; 1961 6E-28 grain truck; 1962 7E-13D 4x4 rack truck; 1962 7E-7 Champ pickup; 1962 GT Hawk 4 speed; 1963 8E-28 flatbed; 1964 Avanti R2 4 speed; 1964 Cruiser and various other "treasures".

Hiding and preserving Studebakers in Richmond, Goochland & Louisa, Va.

[Guido]

quote:Originally posted by Mr.Biggs

OK Art - here we go! You print 'em, I'll sign 'em and we'll get 20 bucks a pop. Limited edition run of only 100.[:0][}]

Is this the same as a Franklin Mint limited edition of 100?


Guido Salvage - "Where rust is beautiful"

Studebaker horse drawn buggy; 1946 M-16 fire truck; 1948 M-16 grain truck; 1949 2R16A grain truck; 1949 2R17A fire truck; 1950 2R5 pickup; 1952 2R17A grain truck; 1952 Packard 200 4 door; 1955 E-38 grain truck; 1957 3E-40 flatbed; 1961 6E-28 grain truck; 1962 7E-13D 4x4 rack truck; 1962 7E-7 Champ pickup; 1962 GT Hawk 4 speed; 1963 8E-28 flatbed; 1964 Avanti R2 4 speed; 1964 Cruiser and various other "treasures".

Hiding and preserving Studebakers in Richmond, Goochland & Louisa, Va.