Modle T

Nine o'clock on a Friday or Saturday night the cafe might be crowded. One of these nights there was a Vodka drinking contest. One had to drink such and such a quantity of Vodka in such and such amount of time and then be able to perform some feat gone missing from my memory. But some of these guys were tree surgeons and the contest became to climb to the top of a tree outside in front, where one guy climbed way up top and swayed around in the high upper branches, and wouldn't come down, yelling and screaming and bravoing it.

But the most interesting evening at the cafe was when a mid-twenties man announced he was a hypnotist and discussion began as to whether it was real and with some declaring they could never be hypnotised. But there was a volunteer. And it was an hour maybe two this volunteer was eating onions like they were apples, barking like a dog or clucking like a chicken etc.

So I met a guy in the neighborhood who said he could hypnotize me and he did although I said he didn't. But you did what I asked he said and I did. But II said I wanted to. And he said precisely.

I drove the Model A very little and did not drain the block of water that winter, so the head was cracked and I never repaired or drove it there after, although I kept it for a number of years in a vacant field behind the house in Venetian Village where we had moved.

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