My buddy Andy’s father bought a 50’s Packard (the car, not a computer) two decades ago. I didn’t catch the whole story — all I know is, the car ran at some point, and then didn’t. As projects sometimes go, the Packard was parked in my friend’s dad’s backyard, and that was the end of that.

Last week, the police department issued my friend’s dad a violation for having the car parked in the grass. Now let’s put this in perspective — the car’s been sitting in the same spot on the grass for, the best we can figure, about 18 years. I’m 32 years old; the car hasn’t moved since before I had my driver’s license. I’m not sure what system is used to determine the exact moment at which a car parked on someone’s own property has become offensive to the city. Did I mention that 9 of the 18 illegal aliens that escaped in my neighborhood last week still haven’t been found? Glad to see the police force focusing on true crime — illegal grass parking. I know for one that I will sleep better tonight knowing that someone doesn’t have their car parked in their own backyard.

ANYWAY … it was decided that the Packard was to be relocated from Andy’s father’s backyard to Andy’s driveway. This became the first official assignment for SUPER TRUCK, aka my Chevy Avalanche. Andy brought the trailer, I brought the truck. Using a come-along (sp?), we inched the Packard up the ramps and onto the trailer. Oh, who am I kidding — Andy did most of the work, I did most of the “staying out of the way”.

Once on the trailer, moving the beast across town was simple. We even stopped by the local car wash to spray off the years of dirt (and rust) that had accumulated on the car’s body. A quick jaunt across town, and the Packard arrived in its new resting place, Andy’s driveway.

By the way, it hasn’t rained in Oklahoma in months. As we pulled out of the car wash, it began raining. Never fails.