The vehicle you see directly before mine is a near virtual enigma:  An apparent 30+ year old daily-driver in pristine condition based somewhere in Frankfort KY, of which I’ve been graced random glimpses at inopportune times for the past several months.    It’s one of those cars that is not in itself otherwise noteworthy except for being a survivor in every sense.   And despite these pictures, it continues to elude…
You might for a moment imagine my elation upon exiting our local Big-Box USA Debtmart with family and cart in tow, and seeing the familiar shape of this green monstrosity sticking out of a parking space, just 3 days after I joined the 21st century with a new camera phone.   YES!   Not only can I get a closer look, I can photograph it too… and the owner even parked at the back of the lot for a clear unobstructed view! After casually stowing our imported necessities my excitement quickly dispersed to confusion, for upon backing out of the space and heading for my quarry, I was shocked to find it was gone?!  “He’s leaving too!” was the cry from my wife, dutifully on the point and directing my glances toward the unmistakable green silhouette now slinking away yet again, a veritable monster in Lot Ness.
I had no choice but that of desperation: follow its tracks as it amusingly tried to dart through two empty spaces to eke a shortcut to into the reverse-direction lane, nearly getting stuck owing to its massive size and turning orbit.  Oh foolish mortal, mock not lest ye be mocked yourself, and I found my lousy stupid #*%^$ FWD family truckster bloatwagon a near-victim of the same fate.   I had no choice – if I had gone the “right” way and all around, have you any idea the untold numbers of traffic and pedestrians ‘twould get between us?
Not to be outdone, several more questionable traffic maneuvers were enacted, and I wonder who was the more surprised:  Me – that the owner of such a car would actually drive in a hoon’s manner, leadfooting, shortcut-seeking, and becoming a 2nd-gen red light sneaker… or He –  that the crazy SOB in the minivan who mimicked his every move through that parking lot morass, became a 3rd-gen red-light sneaker behind him for no apparent reason?    (Remember kids, I’m a semi-pro idiot who does not condone such behavior, so do not try this at home).    But how could I not?    Turns out that was easy enough to decide: so when common sense wife-mandated errands ultimately prevailed, letting this car escape once more into the unwashed, road-salted masses, I took comfort nonetheless, for I now had a bonafide personality to equate to it.

It just seems so very right that an elderly gentleman of apparent blue-collar ethic, with his straw Sunday driving hat on display at the ready for a break in the weather, would be the one to preserve and drive one of Ford’s (and indeed, perhaps all of Detroit’s) most questionably baroque malaise tanks.   In classic 70’s two-tone pea-soup-and-baby-yark green no less!    It’s not a hot-rod, a classic cruiser, a luxo-boat, or a hoonable sleeper, but having survived this long, it doesn’t need to be.  Just look at it: it mocks you and your soullessly efficient techno-appliance.  It laughs at your over-engineered road rocket.  It spits on your restored over-compensator.   It can do this, because it and its driver just are, by virtue of their very continued existence, and that’s all they need to be.  They are the silent middle fingers that lend balance to our overeager vulgarity.
So whoever you are, Mr. Supergreen 1975 Ford LTD Squire Coupe Driver, I salute you.   Until we meet again and I finally have to cut you off so I can get a better picture.   Out of due respect of course, so please don’t take it personally… and please don’t hit me for spite.  Your car would win (unless I’m driving the Angstmobile… then it might get interesting).