Phlog

Sunday evening, before the darkness set in.
Almost August.

Last rays of the sun on the proud Plymouth Prowler.

"But then your shoes are nice indeed."
(Guy)

"You indeed always said that you once
would drive a Mustang."
(Guy)

"But then we're not standing on the Auroroute du Soleil."
(Guy)

"Two beers every ten miles."
(Guy)

Odd fish, from new work by Raymond Waltjen.

Sunny Vondelpark on Sunday.

Instead of prowling in the dark areas
of Amsterdam this Plymouth stayed put.

Note the stickers on the windshield.

Ovcernight this Plymouth Prowler
remained undamaged.

Elderly youngsters sometimes
having lapses of snugness.

Sunday morning we see how liberated
the young inhabitants of Amsterdam can be.

As we crossed from Providence into Pawtucket this afternoon on North Main Street a policeman was standing in the middle of the intersection, guarding a somewhat battered V-8. As is the case with most events one passes in one's car, there is no explanation, no follow-up news report. One is left to imagine what might have caused an engine to become separated from its accompanying automobile on a hot, humid Saturday afternoon in July. When we passed by later, the policeman -- and his engine --were gone. Cheers, Lewis

My prosaic explanation is that the engine traveled in the back of a pick-up. The driver floored the loud pedal when the light switched to green and the engine slid the backdoor open. This made the usual noise deafening the screeching sound and thump of the block onto the asphalt, so the driver didn't hear nor felt this. Nor did he see nor hear the whistle of the policeman who had been standing on the crossing. Wish you a nice and calm Sunday, Arie

Hi Arie, That is essentially what my diagnosis was. One small detail, though: it was an un-policed intersection -- the cop arrived along with a truck from the public works department when someone called and mentioned that there was an engine on the ground. Definitely a case of a pickup truck possibly hitting the gas and cresting enough of a bump to flip the unsecured engine out the back. It must have rolled because the flywheel has been folded over. In any case, I arrived at the red light, realized what the scene was and thought of the PHLOG. Hastily scrabbling in my pockets for my camera as the seconds ticked away, I framed the picture, tried to take it by holding the camera out the side window, couldn't get the shot, pulled the camera back in aimed through the (dirty) windshield and clicked it twice before the light changed. Then I drove on to catch up with a pickup truck full of our children's possessions that we were putting into a storage unit. Lewis.