On Cruising Main in a Plymouth Satellite Blaring Styx, Kansas, and Foreigner

It's the 40th anniversary of our high school graduation. What are we going to do to celebrate? How will we mark this august occasion? Is there something we could do that would take us back to that time and place?

First of all, let’s not try to have any fun, because having fun is for kids. Look at us. 1979 was a long time ago. We aren’t kids anymore. We’re practically adults! 

Figure 1. 1970s MOPAR Muscle

But if we do attempt to enjoy ourselves, let’s not buy 12-packs of beer in pony (6 oz.) cans, because ponies are for amateurs.

But if we do buy ponies, let’s not consume the contents of these cans in the car as we cruise Main, because that might lead to gunning our engine, squealing our big fat stupid tires, attempting to arrive at the next intersection in less time than the car in the adjacent lane, or other inappropriate behavior.

But if, in the course of behaving as we might, we do in fact amass a pile of empty cans, let’s not use them as stackable blocks to build pyramids in the parking lots on either end of Main, because pyramid-building is for geeks, nerds, jocks, and future engineers. Ugh! 

But if we do create our own little design-and-build project, don't allow an officer of the peace to catch us because building pyramids from what might appear to be large quantities of empty cans could land us in a heap of trouble since 

“These cans didn’t drink themselves!” 

(Or words to that effect.)

But if we do get caught, let’s allow the most loquacious member of our party explain the engineering challenge of constructing twin pyramids on opposite ends of Main nearly simultaneously (!) while the rest of us quietly get anything that looks like a pony can out of the car and into the closest pyramid as swiftly and stealthily as possible, because this will be our only hope for ending the evening not in jail.

Figure 2. Lumber Yard

Figure 3. Hy-Vee

But if we do explain the finer points of our engineering project (and assuming both that the officer is distracted until the car is free of cans and that the other occupants comport themselves appropriately), the officer may very well be amused, and allow us to go upon our merry way.

But if the officer is not amused, there remains a non-zero probability that all will be forgiven if we simply offer to dismantle the pyramids in reverse order and if we further promise to recycle the "evidence."

But if all is not forgiven,

"You can just spend the night in jail, mister! 
And let that be a lesson to you!"

(Or words to that effect.)

Figure 4. "No cans but... it smells like a brewery in here!"

This is precisely why we adults must shake our heads and say, “Kids these days!” Mature adult persons would never dream that any kind of fun at all could be had by cruising Norfolk’s main drag in a 1972 Plymouth Satellite with big back tires and Pat Walsh’s old kickbox speakers on the red fuzzy-carpet-covered rear window ledge with a Pioneer 8-track tape deck blaring Styx, Kansas, and Foreigner 

(As if it were 1979 forever....)