We had ten minutes until my friend's mom returned from her job at the bakery, so we opened the garage door and peered out through the viet nam era cloud billowing from the garage, which had just enough room for the mint orange 320i and the three of us. Now it was time to put on dark side while laying on our backs, with the lights out. As the smoke cleared, and rolled toward the street, a huge police car, a Plymouth Fury, crawled past the driveway entrance, seemingly materializing from thin air, in white and lime green with red accents prominent on the logo. How could anything move so slow? We were equally amazed that the car did not stop...beginner's luck. A few minutes later, a 73 spitfire in rust and primer, every fender a differnt color, puttered by grinding gears with "we're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl" sprayed on the passenger side, and blasting dark side through Jensen's, the best speakers ever made. Period. All I could wonder was how in hell did a late model car get so blasted out? The car circled the block about twenty times, like an omen, or an angel...now, none of us wondered if it was working. Maybe get a time machine.