“Barbara” Tanka 845

Once drove a hunnert mile

in ’bout an hour to see her

in Gainesville at school.


And both were a lot of fun:

What a Marine does on leave*!


  • (From Sanford, Florida to Murphey Hall – AKA Bay of Pigs in years just following the Kennedy-inspired invasion of Cuba that got aborted so badly – is about 110-miles as the crow does not fly, but backroads and only one flashing yellow on way and red the other light between First Street in Sanford and Pedro and beyond all the way to the outskirts of The University of Florida in Gainesville, I had a ball flat-out roaring along on just-turned-dark country roads.  Barb was waiting and I said I’d be there shortly. Why I killed not a soul nor found myself explaining myself to a highway patrol trooper or a Seminole, Lake, Marion or Alachua County deputy sheriff is beyond me.  Kids in the late 1960s were supposed to be plum crazy.  And we were and possibly still are. I have fond memories of both Barbara and my very owd 68-mile racetrack run from Sanford to near Oviedo to the wild outskirts of Longwood near Wekiva Springs and back down to Sylvan Lake and to State Road 46 and The Wekiva River Bridge: if run at about 3 a.m. in a hot car ’bout the only thing you might kill was a scrub – or Live – Oak alongside the road or you.  Those days long are gone, and we perhaps all are better for it.  Mad driving until the rest of America and The World found Central Florida helped keep my very own personal level of sanity down far enough to pass of as usually normal – for a citified country kid, that is.  And, yes, I still miss her.)

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