I went by the Advanced Motorsports BBQ Saturday. I was there early I suppose. At noon, I was the only one there. I got lonely and left. Rode around the Alvarado area and stopped at 1 of about 18 estate/garage sales; couldn't get that used mattress in my saddlebags so had to pass. On to Mansfield where I have a lot of memories. The town has grown and it is hard to recall just where some of the events in my memories occurred. The old building is still there that housed the drug store. My first doctor practiced in that old drug store. Nowadays that would be a conflict of interest. They served cone ice cream at the counter and the doctor always bought us kids a cone when we came to see him. Talk about health costs now and then. Often my mother had to make payments on the office call it was so expensive. Another thing is that we didn't go to the doc unless it was for something pretty serious. i.e., fell off a hay truck, stepped on a rusty nail hidden in the cow shit at the Dairy, etc. No, 'I feel run down' could you give me something crap. The old jail building, which was the new jail when I last spent a night there, still stands but no longer a jail. Early 1964, I was home on boot camp leave, 17 yrs old and full of stop six beer, feeling as bad ass as Walker feels now, southbound on the 287. There were 3 of us in my buddies '57 ford, 312 auto, real slick, and he was proud of it. I was driving 'cause my buddy thought he was too drunk to drive, and besides I was about to go back to serve my country. I was approaching the intersection with the only flashing traffic light in town. I saw that '58 Chevy stationwagon coming Northbound down the hill. I turned left right into his path. The impact hurt no one physically. Both vehicles were 'tore up', and beer cans were everywhere. It was daytime and there was a crowd, I couldn't lie my way out of this one. One of my buddies told the cop he didn't know us, he was a hitchhiker we had picked up just before the incident. The other buddy, the car owner, I haven't seen or heard from since. The Fine took all the money I had, money I was going to use for my plane ticket back. There wasn't any calling daddy..I was responsible, I made my bed and so forth. Prior to enlistment I had helped some bricklayers, carrying bricks and mud for them. They were glad to have me back for the remainder of my leave. I headed out towards Briton, where Joe Pool has covered up my tracks I left out in the hay fields along Mountain Creek bottom. I turned back fearing someone may want another load of hay loaded, I can't work that cheap anymore. Back on the Mansfield hwy to Kennedale. The highway is being widened, the old home place will soon have pavement damn near to the porch. As I crossed Village creek I saw a flash of the sign that was displayed at one of the first self service stations in the area back in one of the gas wars. The sign read Regular 13.9. The creek bottom where I'd baled hay is now commercial property. The creek I used to cross on old Buck, a stubborn 23 yr old horse, to round up dairy cows is too wide for me now, account Lake Arlington. On top of the hill the beer joint is gone where I became drunk for the first time. I was pretty old, 16, at the time. I turned at 820, remembering when 820 wasn't there, and the Mansfield hwy shared a reputation with Exchange Ave, and Jacksboro hwy as where you would get your ass kicked. A ride alone is sometime a hell of ride, not for the curves, but for the memories. Dangerous too, daydreaming like that. I got home and thought the time of ride passed quickly, and so did the original ride... treat urself and others right ...louie