Back in 1991, when I was a single gal, people assumed I had a boyfriend because invariably my conversation was always peppered with talk of Gus. Since I didn’t date, this was a hot topic at my place of employment, and my co-workers were always pressing for more information about where and when I had come in contact with this mysterious personage. Being private concerning my personal life, I promised a story in the upcoming Backroads about how Gus and I met. When the article came out, all the women were totally confused, but the men caught on right away. My brother, who lived in Florida, called me after he got his newspaper and wanted to know who actually wrote the piece because he didn’t believe I was clever enough to have written it. Nice vote of confidence, there, Bob! So, I am resurrecting the Gus story for the Gazette readers in the hopes everyone will “get it.”
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It was just one of those chance meetings. He was sitting in the doorway of an old garage when he first caught my eye. One look told me he was exactly the type I had been searching for; a little older perhaps, but built solid with a strong body. He had an air of unhurriedness about him, as if he liked being geared down to a slower pace.
I was attracted to him instantly and looking him over I could tell he was in excellent condition for his age. I guessed he still had all his original parts, too.
I had all but given up thinking I’d ever find one like him, but not because I hadn’t looked. There was a half dozen or so that I had been interested in but somehow, they lacked the qualities I had in mind. I wanted one with a strong character and a good name. Someone I could rely on and go places with. I would be proud to ride anywhere with Gus for he’s the kind that turns heads and people make favorable comments about wherever he goes.
I didn’t want one with any bad habits; he couldn’t smoke or drink the high-octane stuff. Gus seemed like a regular kind of fella who thrived on plain water and an occasional V-8.
He was four years younger than I and for that reason I thought he might be a little hard to handle but felt confident that as we grew used to each other I could gauge his moods and steer him in the right direction!
I always dreamed of having one who could really turn me on with nothing but his looks alone. And given the chance, I could turn him on, too. I held the key to make his engine race.
Oh, there would be times he would probably act up and I’d feel like throttling him… choke the daylights out of him. But when everything was running smoothly, I knew I’d end up loving him so much that if I didn’t put on the brakes and quit clutching him, he’d end up exhausting me. Despite his many years, he never seemed to tire.
He’s the one I had my heart set on for a long time. Now that I’ve found him, I plan to ride out life’s bumps and curves with Gus, knowing that although he has his bad points as well as his good points, he’s the type that plugs away and gets where he’s going at a slow, steady speed. Yet, there is still plenty of spark left in the old boy and when I run with Gus, I know I’ll never be running bored or sitting idle for that matter.
He’s the kind that would wait patiently in the parking lot and never complain while I shopped. For all these kind favors I try and buy him gifts I think he’ll like, even ones I can’t a Ford.
Gus will never be a Mercedes Benz type. He’s a plain old West Virginia boy with no frills about him. But he’s dependable, even-tempered and a quick starter. More importantly, he brings a smile to my face whenever I see him.
He’s a real 1950’s kind of guy who brings fond memories of my youth whenever I am with him. There’s nothing quite like sliding into the seat next to him, tuning the radio to the oldies station and listening to a little Chuck Berry as we cruise down the backroads together. Yes, the search is over. Since Gus came into my life, I have eyes for no other.
And that’s the story of two old classics that finally bumped into each other. Neither of us will ever be in the fast lane of life, but as the saying goes, “Getting there is half the fun!”
