Little Red Convertible

Our little red convertible
Our little red convertible

There is just nothing better than tooling around the neighborhood in a little red convertible on a sunny autumn day. Feeling the warm sun and the chill air on your skin makes you feel alive with promise and enthusiasm. Of course, it helps if you actually have a little red convertible but why let details stand in the way?

Today was too nice a day to be spent inside, so I asked Barbara Gayle what she would like to do. Her first choice, a walk on the beach, stumped me. “Sorry honey; the nearest beach is a two day drive and the jet is out of gas.” But her second choice, a ride in a red convertible, got me to thinking. “I’ll be back in a little while,” I told her and I went outside.

Out back of the CowChows we have a very special assortment of items. Though sometimes referred to as a junk pile I prefer to call it a collection of undetermined purposes. Twenty minutes later I had retrieved a little red wagon of forgotten origin from the pile, cleaned it up, gathered a few other items and rang the front doorbell.

When she opened the door and saw that it was only me, she smiled. When she saw that I was wearing driving gloves, sunglasses and my Scottish Rite cap, because I didn’t have a chauffeur’s cap, she smiled more. When she saw the little red wagon trailing behind me, she giggled. When I popped open the umbrella to serve as the ragtop of her convertible, she rewarded me with her laughter. And then, to my surprise, she climbed into the little red wagon and said, “Let’s go!”

And go we did. We cruised all around the neighborhood, and everywhere we went the kids laughed and waved and came to walk alongside the funny lady in the little red wagon. One little girl brought her a fistful of flowers; another offered a scarf to keep her warm. The neighbors paused in their chores and errands; some to smile and wave or say hello, and some to stare and shake their heads.

And, boy did we have fun. For about an hour we stepped outside of normalcy and allowed ourselves the freedom to be silly, and in the process we created a precious and sustaining memory. Try it sometime. Be silly, just for the fun of it.


Tim Couch