Smokey Mountain Breakdown

At some point in the wee hours of the morning, the sitemeter rolled over to 50,000. Most of those hits have happened in the past 18 months. So, even if TTLB demoted me from a marsupial to a reptile, the state of the blog is good! And TTLB has never been able to get it right on my site anyway.

There is this family cemetery near where I live. For some reason, they've parked their junk car collection around it. Not sure what that's about. Perhaps a memorial. I took a shine to this VW mini-bus.

Outsiders come here and are horrified by the sheer volume of dead cars. A collection of rusting old gentlemen will stretch for acres in some places. I like them in summer when the kudzu covers them and they peek out like senile children all headlights a-kilter and crazed windshields begging for rocks.

As far as I can tell, they are a form of wealth. Look at us, they say, wonder at the sight of our rusting heaps of autos! The Masai have their cattle. We gots dead cars. Lots of them.