The Voice from the Kitchen and I were on the main city street that leads from the church where we both work. She for income. Me for the eternal reward that I hope will come. Just slightly ahead of us was a 1952 Hudson Wasp in the right lane. It was evidently in the final stages of being "cherried out**[note below]." It was shiny, original factory color, about the same as you can see in the picture. The windows were open because of the heat of the day and the driver was a sixty-something guy with his left arm crooked in the position that has become famous as the "Holding-up-the-car-roof" summer driving posture. When we both got to the light, red, of course, side by side, I thought I would give the guy a compliment. I brought down the passenger side window, much to the consternation of the occupant of the passenger's seat. Since the driver of the nice antique wasn't looking my way, I gave a couple of quick little beep-beeps to get his attention. When he turned I said, "Nice car. I grew up in one of those." SSSSSSnawrl ;;; "Yeah, I can see you messing around in the back seat...as far as you ever got."
Sheesh! The light turned green, I put up the windows and The Voice says, "See, I told you. Mind your own business."
I sit there, shaking my head wondering where I went wrong in this whole scene. I'll never figure it out.
We got home and in about thirty minutes the telephone rang and it was a stranger calling. This happens a lot because of the public exposure that Belle and I have in church. It's compounded now because we are in the process of organizing a pilgrimage to Rome for the canonization of Kateri Tekakwitha. The person on the other end is a woman with a fairly thick Hispanic accent, but a fairly good command of English. After a few words her vocabulary and her grammar started to falter and she said, politely, "Do you speak Spanish?" I quickly reviewed my previous experience that day with the Village Grump in the antique car, but I decided to be myself and go for it anyway..."Only when I'm hungry." She laughs and says, "The same for me and English, and I just finished lunch." Now we're both laughing and I'm happy that there is one person in town who understands me. I reply in Spanish, "For you, I can pretend that I'm hungry." More laughter, and we get down to business. We'll be going to Rome together.
Those of you who know me personally, and there are a couple, know that I am not the sweetest guy in the world. It has ever been thus. More than once I have heard this feeback from third party people, "You're not as bad as I heard." To that I have always responded, "Just give it time. You'll see." All that being said, and in recognition that I often don't know enough to keep my mouth shut because I just have to say something "witty," I still think that the guy in the Hudson could have reacted better at my compliment. But hey, that's just me.
The good thing about it, in final analysis, I just picked up another person who is sure not to cry at my funeral.
**Cherried out: Old car lover slang. It means super-sharp, all shiny and perfect. It actually derives from an old (1950s) vulgar term for "virginity",
i.e., perfect, undisturbed. "She's cherry" meant "she's a virgin" and "she's lost
her cherry" meant, well, you know.
It is used for old cars that have been restored to "show room condition" or even better. 
