Along Historic Route 66

Country Classic Cars, popped up from the corn fields near Staunton, Illinois. With an eclectic collection of cars and trucks from yesteryear.  Interstate 55 passed by on one side, and old highway 66 on the back side.

The business is a tangled mess of burned out cars and twisted metal from a massive fire a day ago. Between 150 and 180 collectible vehicles were destroyed–inventory has yet to be completed.

Rubberneckers gawked, myself included, as they passed by on I-55. There was a Desoto sedan just like your Uncle Nick and Aunt Martha’s with tail fins. I perused their website on a regular basis after moving from the area.

Their cars were affordable. Some fancy, most were just regular, common cars like our parents, grandparents drove.  The business owner rented period cars out for movie productions.

Where else could one see such a smattering of automotive history, from the twenties through the eighties?  Hopefully they will stay in business. It’s reported there were a total of 650 vehicles. This will put a dent in the business for some time to come.–

Overheard At Lunch

A favorite little bistro right on the beach.  The weather was perfect–a little cool, but not bad for January.

In summer, the place would be packed out.  It was nice to sit and watch gentle waves.  Yellow warning flags were out, which meant there could be dangerous conditions for swimmers.

Two guys at the table behind us kibitzed with the waitress.  They may have been winter visitors from Iowa.  There were more cars with Iowa license plates, than from any other state.

“Would you like some banana puddin’?” She asked.

“I like the way you said that,” Guy, #1 replied with a laugh.

“I said it that way, so you’d buy some banana pudding,” The waitress had them wrapped around her little finger.

As the waitress brought the check to guy #2, he paid and answered–“Thanks Puddin.”

A sat down at the table in front of us.  Another waitress brought menus and took their drink order.  She was obviously cold.  Temperatures were in the low sixties. It felt cooler in the shade, warmer where the sun shone in.  Iowa folks were a sturdy lot.

It was such a peaceful setting–not far from home.  Why didn’t we come here more often?