Tits and Tires by S.E. Hicks

Tits and Tires
Written by Fletcher “Butchwax” Ferguson

When a young man turns sixteen a whole new world opens up to him. He can now legally drive a car. Dad said, “if you want to drive, buy your own car and pay for your own insurance.” It would have been nice to have known that when I was three so I could have saved up for the big event but no, he made that little announcement on my sixteenth birthday. At the time 1971, we had but one car, a 1960 Chevy station wagon that drove like a truck. No power anything. The thought of taking that gun boat on a date was less than appealing. So I went to work mowing lawns and what ever I could do to make a buck.

In addition to the lawn mowing, I had an opportunity to shovel the lead out of water traps for my Dad’s employer. The gun powder manufacturing and distribution company he worked for owned and operated the only indoor shooting range in town. The water traps were four feet deep, six feet wide, better than 100 feet long and there were two of them both needing to be emptied of lead. I was hired to clean them out. When I say something is heavy as lead I know what I am talking about. Once the traps drained I shoveled the lead from gazillions of spent rounds into buckets and loaded the very, very heavy buckets into the back of the station wagon. I was going to smelt the lead and make bullets in the basement. I worked two long days at “getting the lead out.” I also know the true meaning of that commonly used phrase. All totaled there was over 3200 pounds of lead.

Over the next several months I smelted lead and formed bullets in our basement. I made mostly .38 caliber bullets but did make a couple hundred pounds of .45 caliber. Even made some with brass jackets. All that lead, poured into bullet molds and sold back to the shooting range for the avid shooters that reloaded. Six months later I had enough money for a cheap car and enough for the insurance. Only I had to take a driver education class first and that fee set me back as did the need to replace Dad’s old Briggs and Stratton lawn mower, that I had totally used up. Dad was tough.

Then there was the realization that girls cost money. Fortunately, the folks grew tired of shuttling me and my dates so the old man coughed up the insurance fee and I was going to start driving. A second fortuitous wind fall occurred that winter as Dad was given a 1964 Lincoln Continental as a Christmas bonus. Hot damn charley I was picking up my dates in a Lincoln. She was jet black in color (the car that is) with 450 cubic inches of tire squealing power. The Lincoln was equipped with an over drive transmission that made ninety effortless. The song “Hot Rod Lincoln” by Commander Cody and the Lost Planet Airmen was released the same week I was to drive the car on my first date. Get this, the song was originally written in 1955 by Charley Ryan, the same year I was born. It was destiny that I was King of the world. Everybody knew Butchwax was driving the “Hot Rod Lincoln.” When I cruised through all the teenage drive in hangouts, heads turned and people talked. The soft leather seats and the power windows made dinning at the drive-in a unique pleasure as well. I was the envy of every kid I knew. At first I was way too stupid to take full advantage but I would quickly learn the effect a fully loaded Lincoln sitting on tires had on the accessibility to tits. By the time I graduated high school I had seen more, fondled more tits than could possibly be imagined. I am in the union you know.

Unfortunately, there were those dads that felt I was a bit to rich to be associated with their daughter so dating was often times an act of futility as I was rejected at the door simply because I pulled up in a Lincoln. We were so far from rich it never crossed my mind I would be thought to be from money. Heck Dad barely made twenty grand a year and we ate liver and onions once a week because we had to. There again there were other parents who mistakenly thought I came from wealth and encouraged their daughter to…… “best be nice to that boy his Ma and Pa’s gots bucks.” Bras came off pretty enthusiastically on those dates. Older more worldly chicks became the focus.

The drive-in theater offered the Lincoln a chance to help the effort of bra removal; my move. I had the move down to a smooth flawless motion. Once parked at the weekly outdoor feature I hit the power seat control and reclined those soft leather seats to an irresistible romantic posture just as the first kiss was placed. The bra came off so easy it was like a hot knife though butter. My dates just couldn’t help themselves. It was then that I drew the connection of tits and tires as a combination that was made in heaven. The girls were swooned by the luxury and apt two fingered bra unhooking talent. That was the case until my head was fully connected to my neck.

You see anything with tits or tires is going to cause great strife in a man’s life as both cost large quantities of money to maintain, bring great heartache, result in frustration and may very well be the root cause of the all trouble the world over. I trust I don’t have to explain the obvious, wars over oil, fights over women, divorce lawyers and all. The two items are man’s greatest conundrums and they both drive world economy, think about it. They do.

It isn’t just oil, the world has a tit based economy as well. Just think of all the money associated to tits just in the medical related industries alone, not to mention magazines and what about how tits effect the insurance premiums we pay. Oh my god, let me not forget mentioning the advertisement industry and the products tits are used to sell. Tits are used… to sell tires. Radio is even benefited by tits, as man’s imagination runs wild at the sound of the female‘s voice which is attached to a pair that need to be tuned in. The list of linkage to cleavage is endless and exhaustive. It may have been unavoidable but how tires and tits were put together is something that primitive man didn’t worry about… I have to and wish it was not so.

As I have grown older I put less energy into tires and even less into tits as they both go flat after while. The one you drive comes with a radio, the other drives you and comes with a mouth you have to listen to. I like them both as necessary evils. What they independently do to me/ for me is unparalleled by any two other unlike objects in the universe and yet, they always seem to be connected some how.

I need them both terribly. I sometimes resent that fact, wish I was blind and rode a horse, completely eliminating both from my life. No fun in that, I guess I will have to take the good with the bad. Tits and tires, a guy can’t do without either and why should he.