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Published: August 6th 2015
…I finally met the infamous Cousin Dickie. Dick is recently retired from the state prison where he worked for the past 32 years. He’s still a race car driver and now races pro-stock. He doesn’t have his own car; he drives for the owners. He’s also been known to fill in for other drivers in a pinch. He’s had a fairly successful career so far and is one of the top 10 drivers in the 60 year history of the Seekonk Raceway. He races at many other tracks, but Seekonk is the one he frequents.
We met Dick and his lady friend, Kim, at their house. We also met Copper, Kim’s Dachshund. Copper is quite the medical miracle. At one point in his life he lost the use of his back legs. He was even fitted for a cart that he used for a short time. One day someone suggested acupuncture. Kim was all for it, Dick rolled his eyes at the idea. The acupuncturist did his thing and sent them home with instructions for exercises to do with Copper until the next appointment. They did the exercises and went back for his second visit. Same thing…the acupuncturist did what
he does and told them to continue the exercises until the next appointment. By this time Dick is ready to have the guy committed or arrested. Shortly before the day of the third appointment with this quack one of Copper’s legs twitches. Dick says nothing, not sure of what to make of it. He’s the only one around at the time. Later, Kim saw a twitch. Maybe the quack’s on to something. It’s not long before Copper can throw away his cart. He’s up and walking…back end weaving like a drunk…but he’s on his way. Now he runs and tosses his toys and blanket like nothing ever happened.
Dick not only races cars, he works on them, too. He has an impressive garage behind the house. He has two bays, one of which is currently being rented and occupied by a Modified Stock car owned by a retired police officer. The other bay has a pretty hefty lift he picked up cheap…it was a bit of a mess. Now it’s all pretty. I think it’s the kind of garage Ryan would like to have.
The four of us went out for dinner at a pub whom they claim
has the original recipe for The Central’s pizza crust. Their menu had several of the same pizzas, including the baked potato one I had when Kathy was here. Mike and I split the same one tonight. I thought it actually tasted better than the one at The Central. Less potato. The waitress/bar tender at the pub turned out to be a Houlihan cousin, related by marriage. Those Houlihans are everywhere. I decided to go wild tonight and order a cocktail with my dinner. I had not one, but two. The first was Malibu and Sprite, the second was Malibu and milk. The bar tender had never heard of mixing Malibu with milk. After she poured my drink she dipped her finger in the shaker and tasted it. I have now expanded her repertoire. My work here is done.
The evening became night and the later it got, the more Kim reminded Dick that not everyone is retired. Some people still have to work in the morning. She also works at the prison, but is still a few years away from retirement.
We parted ways in the parking lot, but the boys now have each other’s phone numbers and
I’m sure they’ll keep in touch until the next time we come back.
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