A Fistful of Fig Newtons (37 page)

“Judas Priest, what a gallimaufry!” I bellowed my favorite W. C. Fields quotation, from
The Bank Dick,
in my W. C. Fields crotchety voice as I roared out of the tunnel. I thundered up the curving ramp, taking deep, gulping swallows of air rich in hydrocarbons and the smell of burning rubber that always hangs over the Jersey meadows
.

I was back in Gasser’s brave new world, or was it Huxley’s? Or Orwell’s? Or Johnny Carson’s?

Behind me, the towers of Manhattan reached high into the gathering summer twilight, touches of purple and gold. The Empire State Building, so achingly familiar, was black against the sky
.

I glanced down at the temperature gauge. It was back to normal. The crowd in the Dodge Charger boomed alongside. The Scarlet Knights were heading home. My radio burst into life. It was Frank Sinatra, WNEW’s Chairman of the Board, lamenting his lost “good” years
.

I snapped it off
.

“A very good year …” I sang. For forced marches in the rain, for K rations at dusk, for swabbing latrines, and plucking chickens in the mess hall. It was a very good year
.

I laughed, lighting up a stale White Owl as I headed into the velvety blood-orange sunset hanging over the Jersey Turnpike
.

For many years a cult radio and cabaret personality in New York City, Jean Shepherd was the creator of the popular film
A Christmas Story
, which is based on his books
In God We Trust, All Others Pay Cash
and
Wanda Hickey’s Night of Golden Memories
and has become a holiday tradition on the Turner Network. He was also the author of
The Ferrari in the Bedroom
. He passed away in 1999.