The Snout.

Dear Getaway Drivers,

I just read a book that got me to thinking... about memory and story and their intersections and overlaps.  I'd tell you all about this book, except that I am going to give it to you for Christmas, and I don't want you to go buying it yourselves.  Maybe I will tell you about it January, after everyone has opened their gifts.  Anyway, this book got me to thinking....

About the Mercury car known as the Snout.  No one remembers the Snout.  I drove it all over the place, with cops on my tail.  I have searched this world wide web over and I cannot find this car- it had a black vinyl top and the rest of the coupe was white.  It was a time when stock cars were on primetime tv and movies were about outrunning the dunderheaded law in Pontiacs.  Those times are long gone and so is a definite identification of the Snout. 

The Snout was parked in the driveway for a good long while, and I couldn't drive, but I could jump into it, with the window down, and pretend the doors were welded shut and that we had to hurry to outrun the g-men.  I had two good girlfriends in those days and they would sometimes play at detective with me, or at getaway car, in the Snout.  I feel like maybe I enjoyed these narratives more than they did, because, now that I think about it, they were mostly actors in my pretend theater.  They seemed jolly enough about participating, though. 

It's a shame we will never know what they thought about all these cops chasing us after we'd robbed a bank.  I wonder if either of them have ever gone back and dug up the money?