“She has a way with words, this lady. She should consider going into writing.” I am talking about J. K. Rowling, in my Impromptus today. (Of course, she is one of the best-selling writers of all time.) I also get into William F. Buckley Jr. and porn; Donald Trump and the F-word; and more. Here.
Let’s have some mail. Yesterday, I had a piece called “Our Political World, Topsy-Turvy.” One sentence reads, “When I was coming of age, left-wingers liked to say that the U.S. had fought the Vietnam War at the behest of Dow Chemical and other nefarious companies.” Now you can hear the same sort of thing out of the mouths of leading Republicans (starting with the presidential ticket).
A reader writes,
Jay,
My best friend in college during the Seventies opposed the Vietnam War because the U.S. was fighting it only to “enrich the big oil companies.” I lost touch with him after college until recently and when I asked what he had been doing all these years, he replied, “I have been working as a chemist for Exxon”!
Heh, happens.
In an Impromptus last week, I posted a picture of a vintage vehicle and said, “Well, hello, woodie! Long time no see.” The vehicle in question is wood-paneled. A reader writes,
Jay,
Your “woodie” is a classic Jeep SJ, known as the Wagoneer or Grand Wagoneer, depending on when it was built and who built it. It was essentially the same design for 29 years, built first by Kaiser, then AMC, and finally Chrysler. The most sought-after ones are the last ones, 1989–91, because Chrysler actually made a few improvements. Great car, if you can stand 11 mpg.
Also in that column, I said,
Do you know about lowriding? Where I come from, when I was growing up, “lowriding” and related words were sort of pejorative. “Ooh, there goes Miguel, in his lowrider.” But have a look at this — an extensive report: “Lowriding is more than just cars. It’s about family and culture for Mexican Americans.”
A reader writes,
Hi, Jay,
That is correct, about the importance of lowriding and Mexican-American culture. I grew up in Santa Rosa, Calif., during the 1970s and we had a typical culture of cruising. Every weekend, Fourth St. would come alive with about 1,000 kids and their cars. Fourth Street on a Friday or Saturday night was where you could find out who was having a party or how you could score something illegal.
The Mexicans were starting to develop their lowrider culture on the south side of Santa Rosa. A bunch of us who were friends — non-Mexicans — came up with an idea. We would go lowrider.
One of the guys borrowed his mom’s 1963 Plymouth Fury, which was an old taxi cab. We took out the back seat and threw 100 pounds of newspaper in the trunk. The driver then put on welding gloves and a welding helmet, and six of us crammed into the car and headed for downtown.
We made it down Fourth St. for two blocks when the first empty beer can was thrown at us with the usual profanity.
Hilarity and danger ensued, but it ended well enough.
And so does this little letters column. Thank you to one and all.