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Those that know me know that I have made my home between here, in Western Ireland, and Chicago, but I am originally from a small town in North Eastern Oklahoma, near Tulsa. It was exactly what one would think of when you think of small town Americana. We had the requisite VFW hall, small cafe named "Eats," the small used car dealership downtown, which at one time used to be a Studebaker showroom, and last, but not least, the former Route 66 is Main St through what passes for downtown. It was a great place to grow up. I digress. Let me tell you about a time I drove home from Chicago.

It's not often I get away, but I felt the need to go home, and visit the family. Fishing, and my Aunt's homemade biscuits were just what I needed. Packing my car for a long weekend, I headed out. I have always harbored a passion for older cars, and through the years, have had many. At this time, I was driving my ‘64 Ford Falcon Futura Convertible. During the hot summer nights, I loved to drive with the top down, and would leave mid to late afternoon, to avoid the heat of the day.

Trekking out from the Northwest suburbs of Chicago, I'd make St. Louis for a late supper, and drive the the humid night on into Tulsa. I had been driving for some time, and decided to take the back roads in from Joplin, MO. Reaching down, I clicked on the radio, and the clear, dark night gave me a great radio signal, and I picked up KVOO AM out of Tulsa. The Clear classic sounds of Hank Williams singing "I'm So ...

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