It's Still A Smelly Olds To Me

June 1980 finds your servant and his kid brother in the back of an Oldsmobile on the way to Niagara Falls with the Queen Mother and Royal Father. On the charts, this song by Billy Joel is on its way to number one, and I'm hearing it several times during the course of the trip.

A mix of your servant's favourite music
and moves, set to stories and observations.

That trip would also include several instances of the Royal Father lighting up his pipe. He had a system: while steering with his legs pressed against the bottom of the wheel, he would pack some Bourbon Riff into the end and get out his lighter. Positioning the lighter upside down into the pipe opening, he'd give it a few flicks. Of course, it would never light on the first try, as much as he huffed and puffed to get that pipe smoking. Something did invariably light, however, because soon clouds of tobacco smoke filled the front seat and drifted to the back.

Dad would then realize the imminent danger to our health and safety, probably with a complaint added in from the Queen Mother:

"Dave, haven't we had this conversation about you smoking in enclosed places?"

That's when he would crack the driver's side window and let air pressure perform its natural duties. But the car still smelled like a pipe. Or a cigar.