Very cool 1955 Ford Thunderbird for sale. (With a 2023 budget of 1.27 billion and 321 million to support the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration’s core safety programs under their priorities of safety, climate change (?), transportation equity, infrastructure investment, and job creation, L.G.More Classic Ford Thunderbirds for Sale Below. The blind girl sang Raymond’s favorite song, the immortal “Dead Skunk in the Middle of the Road” at his funeral, and little Arnold delivered the eulogy, entitled, “The day my big brother went to that great speedway in the sky, I got my first decent night’s sleep in years.” He was walking back to his car after buying a new set of foam rubber dice to hang on his rearview mirror and a woman attempting to parallel park backed over him. I think of Raymond often, especially now that Americans likely will soon be able to drive faster.Īs you probably guessed, Raymond finally did get it in an automobile accident. I’ll be back through here in a couple of hours.” Raymond handed the policeman a twenty and said, “Keep the change. “How much is the fine?” he asked the officer. He was driving through a nearby small town one evening and was stopped for speeding. Raymond also continued to be stopped often by the police. Raymond also continued to terrorize little Arnold, once tying him naked to the T-bird and using him as a hood ornament. One morning he drove through the door to the school cafeteria and his car came to a halt only when approximately 100 pounds of rice pudding clogged his carburetor. When he arrived at school each morning, the entire faculty and student body would gather outside to see if Raymond could get his T-bird stopped from the 120 he was doing when he pulled into the parking lot. Raymond defied the odds, however, and managed to live several years driving at top speed at all times. Little Arnold, who was four at the time, lived through the experience, but it was weeks before they could remove all the lint from the various orifices of his body. The Norsworthys, Betty Jean and Frank, had it in for Raymond ever since he was eleven, when he put his little brother, Arnold, into a dryer down at the laundromat and dropped in a dime. It was also the day his parents tried to do away with him.įor his birthday, his parents gave him a souped-up, ’55 Thunderbird, knowing their son immediately would drive it as fast as it would go and probably kill himself.
55 T BIRD FOR SALE LICENSE
The day Raymond turned sixteen and got his driver’s license was the happiest day of his life. Trying to slow him down to 55 would have been like taking away Picasso’s brush, Van Cliburn’s piano, or Jack Nicklaus’s putter. Speed was his life, his car, his mistress. Regardless of what happens to the speed limit, however, I remain convinced it was a good thing my old friend Raymond (Double-clutch) Norsworthy never lived to see the federal government demand a speed limit of 55. “From what I read and hear, it appears the nation may soon get its old speed limit back, or at least one that enables motorists to drive-legally that is-faster than the present snail’s pace of 55 miles per hour. In one of his publications “When My Love Returns From the Ladies Room, Will I Be Too Old to Care?”(Villard/Ballentine Books- 1987) he gives a historical account of how “speed kills” during his upbringing:
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