The Frosts were big on hand-me-downs. Sigh!
I was often dressed in my two older brothers’ slacks and shirts. Fortunately, that didn’t happen with my older sister’s clothes, although I do remember the pre-adolescent embarrassment of having to wear my sister’s white sweater in the Christmas parade because I didn’t have a white sweater, and my parents sure weren’t going to buy me a white sweater that I’d never be caught dead in again. (That’s when I learned the coming-of-age reality of girl’s sweaters buttoning on the wrong side.)
On my 16th birthday and the day I received my Texas driver’s license, I received a hand-me-down of my mother’s Oldsmobile Cutless. I was thrilled that I had my own wheels and that it had an awesome Delco radio! (Yep! Radio geek even then). What wasn’t great was that it burned oil like an Arab sheik in a cranky mood. And the wheel alignment consistently pulled right after a few thousand miles.
So I learned.
I had to carry several quarts of oil in the trunk for when the thingamajig ran low. I knew I had to be on alert for when the steering wheel would start pulling after a few thousand miles.
Your station is like that.
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