Man, those were the days. You could get into Fenway Park for fifty cents back then, a Hershey bar was a nickel, and gasoline was only thirty cents a gallon, if you can believe that— and lemmie tellya, when I drove my Impala in for service, the crew gave me the royal treatment. Now, I gotta pump my own gas, sigh …
What’s the world coming to, Brinke G.?












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