1977 Ford Ltd Ii For Sale

...And Of A Sound Mind: My Favorite Car Ate My Favorite Comb

My favorite comb was purple - a mottled kind of purple, almost like it was tie-dyed. I guess that plastic comb was similar to my purple-shade tie-dyed tee shirt which I wore practically everywhere back then.  Did I mention this was twenty years ago or so?  I would not be caught dead in such a shirt today, nor with such a comb.  It was the kind of comb with the curved handle; remember those?  So the handle stuck out of the top of the jeans pocket for very easy access.  It was the smaller sized version, not the big old fat plastic kind with the contoured sides, but the slim plastic downsize, flat version.  But you had to buy the big fat kind with a whole bag of combs in order to get the smaller comb sold in the same bag.  That's just the way it was back then.  It may still be that way, I don't know - I have little reason to go around buying combs these days. So my favorite comb and my favorite tee shirt were both purple.  I went through a purple phase.  Did I mention this was twenty years ago?  I said that already?  Okay.  I had a purple guitar too, but please don't bring it up.  That guitar is part of some painful memories I would rather forget.  But you get the point - I bought a whole bag of combs just to get this purple one.  Call it a purple phase I went through.  I still have the purple dress shirt I wore the day I got engaged to marry, but it has not fit me in a long time and will likely never fit again. That purple comb resided in my back left pocket for years and years.  Except of course when I was combing my hair, and then naturally the comb was not in my pocket.  I think you can see how it just works out better that way, that your comb should not be in your pocket when you are trying to comb your hair.  And I combed my hair a lot.  I had a lot of hair.  It was not long hair, but it was very thick and needed a lot of regular attention.  Those memories are also now painful for a different reason.  I miss having hair. My favorite car ate my favorite comb.  Do you want to hear the story?  It is probably a long story, as far as comb stories go.  In fact, I don't recall ever reading a comb story, long or short, so not only will this story be somewhat long but it will possibly be unique as well.  I hope it will also be entertaining to the reader, but I will settle for slightly interesting.

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