I remember driving to North Carolina when I was a little girl in a snowstorm to get down to my mom's family in the Carolinas. There were chains on the car – it was the late sixties – and we were just singing in the car. Christmas carols.
My first car I got it in an auction at my temple. It was an '86 Volvo that I got for 500 bucks and then wound up throwing $10 000 into the stereo system and put TVs in the foot rests. It was the most ridiculous Volvo you'd ever seen but I had never had money before and I was out of my mind.
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The American Dream has run out of gas. The car has stopped. It no longer supplies the world with its images its dreams its fantasies. No more. It's over. It supplies the world with its nightmares now: the Kennedy assassination Watergate Vietnam.
