Back when I was a little boy, my father used to travel across the USA for business. At first, that meant he left home on the 1rst of May in our family’s red and white Plymouth Belvedere. It wasn’t a big deal, since my mom (as was true for most native New Yorkers) had never learned to drive. It also meant, once I was five years old, I got to ride my bike 2 miles a few times a week to FC Whitney’s or Bohack’s to pick up stuff we needed to eat.
Continue reading Up, Up, and Away…
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