I like o movies. Pat and I watched the 1978 production of “Grease” this past week. Paramount spent $6 million on this movie and made all their money back on the first weekend it was released. In case you forgot, it was about teenagers living in the ancient American times of the 1950’s and it is a musical. John Travolta plays the “Greaser” and his pretty little girlfriend is Olivia Newton John. The setting is in a California High School whose principal is Eve Arden and whose coach is played by Sid Caesar who hasn’t won a game in 7 years.

There is a lot of music in the film and a lot of nostalgia for people who went to high school in that era. For me, the film made me think of Stonewall High School and the little “Long Horn Lunch” across the street from the school. The Long Horn was basically a little café that served 15 cent hamburgers and nickel pops and its dining area was a wideopen juke box area. The “Jitter-bug” and other similar dances were often performed after the highschoolers had devoured their RC Colas and the burger. The owner, Mrs. Dollar, helped keep the music going with her own nickels if needed while some of us adjourned outside to look at who had driven what to school that day.

Our popular cars of the day were usually old stripped-down cars. The splendor of the 1950+ models had not escaped us and Henry Ford’s big V-8s were duly worshiped. It was an absolutely great time and owning something like the 50 Mercury Convertible featured in the movie Grease was beyond a daydream.

Another big thing back then was something called Sunday School and at First Baptist there in Stonewall was the boys’ 12-to-15-year-olds class. And we were not a good bunch. No one wanted to teach the three or four that showed up. But finally, they talked poor old Buddy Harper into taking the class. I don’t think the ecumenical powers of that church knew what kind of teacher Buddy was.

Buddy’s real desire was to coach a boys’ softball team and it wasn’t long before he had a class of about 8 to 12 regulars coming and it was during that time the Dunnigan family bought their brand new 1950 Mercury. It got more love and attention parked out in front of the church than Jesus. Buddy had trouble getting us to pay attention that morning. Our minds were on that new Mercury out front. The very minute class ended we all went out to where this “Golden Calf” was parked. The car owner’s son was in my class and then it happened. The boy unlocked the car and said “get in” with his eyes. The whole class was instantly in the beautiful Mercury.

Dwayne started the behemoth and soon its eight incredible cylinders pulled us away and we headed toward Owl Creek. At the top of the hill just North of the Buck Creek Bridge, Dwayne let the car loose as it slipped into overdrive. We passed 75-MPH almost instantly. Let me say right now, that gravel road was in excellent shape and when I peeked at the speedometer again, we had slid past 115-mph. I don’t know about the other seven boys, but I began to examine my salvation and I wondered how the church was going to handle seven funerals all at once.

But Dwayne was already riding the brakes, trying to slow the runaway beast down and finally we turned around and when we parked back in front of the church. We had validated Albert Einstein’s theory about how speed alters time. When I made it into church, I imagined my ears being bent back a little from the speed and saw that only a few noticed our lateness for the preaching service Outside, the big black Mercury stood. Popping and snapping and emitting the odor of burned paint off a new engine. Mom noticed my lateness from the choir. She asked me about it later and I told her we were praying.

Have a good week and don’t forget to go to church on Sunday. But don’t take your Mercury.

Wayne Bullard, DPh cwaynebullard@gmail.com