I tried not to lean against anything. Leaning, I Feared, would give the wrong impression. It could seem too casual. Sitting was also not an option. I also did my level best not to make eye contact. This was harder than it sounds. When you are surrounded by people with dentition that resembles broken picket fences and forearms adorned with jail house style tattoos (some apparently made by carving shapes into the skin then pouring India ink into the wound) it's very difficult to look anywhere other than their eyes. Fear causes this. What would be part of the celebration? Well there would be music for dancing from the Big Band which is sponsored by ITT Conglomerates. Of course, there would be food, party favors, and a chance to meet and greet other car lovers (and even lonely souls who had nowhere to go on New Year's eve).

What the hell? Why would these people, this underclass, this despised minority, feel a kinship with a singer that represents the right wing status quo? Shouldn't these guys be listening to Steppenwolf (or at least Eminem)? Lets face it, the main stream of America doesn't hang out in places like this. In fact, most suburban middle class goons would prefer that these people simply vanish from the planet. So why would the customers at Twisted Sisters get behind this new super nationalism? This was like seeing Jewish kids singing Deutschland Uber Alles, for god's sake. http://www.wikihow.com/Find-a-Good-Used-Engine Slowly they drive a little further up the road, find an area along the road side, they can turn around the truck; --cliffs being on one side and an embankment on the other that lead down to the lake itself. As they make their turn, they straighten out the wheel, press hard on the gas and get the hell going to the strangers house. The first voice I heard when I came out of surgery was Harrison's. Harrison called me on the phone and said, "Hey, are you okay?" I said, "Yeah, I'm good." He said, "Well, then you need to get back to work." I said, "Are you serious?" He said, "That's the way this cookie crumbles." So I went back to work. The show doesn't stop for anybody. My mother and father enjoyed much of their leisure time with drive in movies, watching TV shows such as MASH, All in the Family, Dukes of Hazard, and Andy Griffith. They enjoyed the music of Merle Haggard, Freddy Hart and Conway Twitty. Lastly, they enjoyed fast cars as well as many people did in the seventies. Drag racing was a fun event for both my mother and my father. In the seventies my father owned a 1972 Ford Galaxy 500, 1970 Road Runner, 1973 Ranchero, and a 1976 buy truck houston. The cost of a new vehicle was around $6000. Over all, the most rememberable event for my mother in the seventies was in 1977 when Elvis Presley died. He tipped his hat a bit, raising it off is forehead and when he did I noticed steel eyes. Eagle eyes that I imagined could spot a leaf hopper miles away. He screwed up his mouth, flicked the straw out the window and opening the door, said, Well, let's go. I resumed my mission and approached the Shadow Bar. Shadow Bar is an unusual name that had nothing to do with the building itself. The walls were bright, white stucco with the front of the one-story building evenly divided by a massive black door with a small glass window centered about five feet up from the sidewalk. The few windows in the building were covered with shades and draperies that allowed no glimpse of what was happening inside. A little later I waved my hand around in front of my face to clear some of the smoke and give myself a line of sight. I drained my beer and told Murphy that I had to bail. He slapped me on the back and headed toward the old scarred pool table. As I walked out into the sunlight I was thinking that I'd never have to see the inside of that place again.