The Great Possum-Squashing and Beer Storm of 1962

Fred'S Reflections On America As It Was And Isn'T. In The Title Essay He Tells Of His Rural Southern Boyhood, Driving A 1953 Chevy The Color Of Two-Tone Dirt, An Aging Wreck Serving As Heraldic Emblem, Codpiece, Bar And, Far Less Frquently Than He Would Have Liked Or Admitted, Love Nest. It Usually Started But Remembered Compression As An Aging Gigolo Recalls The Ardors Of Youth And On The Night Of The Possum-Squashing, With Bobby On The Roof And Itchy In The Trunk And A Great Many Empty Beer Cans.... Well, You Get The Idea. It Was Another Country, Says Fred, And He Would Like It Back. Never Happen.