Looking back: It's winter
in the early 1980s and my little sports car fogs up inside whenever the weather's humid: rain or snow. Irritating, dangerous. The day after a fog
episode, I was in downtown Reno on assignment, going into Harrah's.
As I crossed Center Street, I saw a Rolls Royce maneuver around the corner, slowly.
(Harrah's kept a fleet of small RRs for its headliners; Sammy Davis Jr. preferred the Ferrari.)
The Rolls' windows were fogged inside. Whiteout. The driver's window was down and the driver craned his neck to see as he inched toward valet parking.
Don Rickles. Unhappy Don Rickles.
I, however, was happy. If a Rolls can fog up inside, I can't bitch about my $12,000 280ZX.
As I crossed Center Street, I saw a Rolls Royce maneuver around the corner, slowly.
(Harrah's kept a fleet of small RRs for its headliners; Sammy Davis Jr. preferred the Ferrari.)
The Rolls' windows were fogged inside. Whiteout. The driver's window was down and the driver craned his neck to see as he inched toward valet parking.
Don Rickles. Unhappy Don Rickles.
I, however, was happy. If a Rolls can fog up inside, I can't bitch about my $12,000 280ZX.
-30-
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