The Commander

Commander Rapid views the world as only a 1954 Studebaker can! From his command post on the banks of Whites Creek, he rusts elequently away.

Thursday, June 10, 2004

Commander Rapid here.

Here at the command post on White's Creek just after it falls off the Cumberland Plateau, I survey the world. I am actually a Studebaker. Once I proudly roamed the Nations highways and how I ended up here, who can fathom. Perhaps the easy access to the juke joints that sprung up in what are laughably called "Dry" counties here in "Tennessee befuddled my driver into thinking the bridge was still there. Maybe it was and the aim was a little off. Who knows, as today, only the bridge pylons and this rusting former proud car keep watch.

More when I feel like it. I've got time even if you don't.

The Commander