Auto Restorationist In Training

It’s a beautiful spring night and I heard people talking down on my front porch. I peered down from my porch aerie and saw several of my downstairs neighbor’s friends sitting on the step. I’ve been expecting a visit from a California woman — I ran into her out on the street a few hours ago, and I was wondering if she was going to stop by.

I went down to the porch and got to talking with a young guy I hadn’t met before. He said:

“I’m getting a degree in restoration.”

“What kind of restoration?”

“Oh, just about anything, from paintings to old cars.”

“Cars? Like bodywork and paint jobs and such?”

“Yeah, I just love old cars. There’s good money in working on them. My school has hooked me up with a place in Cleveland; I’ll be moving there soon. I’ll be able to make fifteen bucks an hour while I finish college. I’ll be in debt about $27,000 by the time I’m done. Then I’ll move out to the Pacific Northwest; probably somewhere in the Seattle area. I’m graduating from high school next Friday.”

“Another example of the brain drain from the Quincy area — the smart and motivated kids move away, it seems.”

My neighbor Tom laughed, and said, “Hell, yes! There ain’t too many opportunities around here!”

Larry

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