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Sparrow of Española, and: Virginia Evening, and: So Long, Tuscaloosa

Sparrow of Española, and: Virginia Evening, and: So Long, Tuscaloosa SPARROW OF ESPAÑOLA / Here's to that bedraggled sparrow we saw at the Sonic Drive-In one Sunday afternoon passing through "Low Rider Capital of the World." Where the auto parts stores all were open, lots full, and out on the drag a parade of huge Dodges and souped-up Chevys crept along, engines throbbing, drivers in mirrored shades just visible above the steering wheels made from chain, the carpeted dashboards, the soft dice bouncing as cars reared up and dropped down, reared and dropped Española, New Mexico. Famous metallic-flake paint, chrome trim as the drivers idled bumper to bumper up and down U. S. 285, route like perfect black stallions in movies at El Pasatiempo down the road. Sunlight ricocheted off tinted windshields, of the Pueblos, route of Escalante and Cortez, of Spanish priests, American trappers, traders else, stopping for coffee, a bite to eat, a tank of gas to get them out. In Española the low riders drove all afternoon, all evening, all their lives for all we knew. For half an hour and tourists on their way somewhere we ate in our car and watched them go by and go by. They were home there, like the http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png The Missouri Review University of Missouri

Sparrow of Española, and: Virginia Evening, and: So Long, Tuscaloosa

The Missouri Review , Volume 8 (2) – Oct 5, 1985

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Publisher
University of Missouri
Copyright
Copyright © The Curators of the University of Missouri.
ISSN
1548-9930
Publisher site
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Abstract

SPARROW OF ESPAÑOLA / Here's to that bedraggled sparrow we saw at the Sonic Drive-In one Sunday afternoon passing through "Low Rider Capital of the World." Where the auto parts stores all were open, lots full, and out on the drag a parade of huge Dodges and souped-up Chevys crept along, engines throbbing, drivers in mirrored shades just visible above the steering wheels made from chain, the carpeted dashboards, the soft dice bouncing as cars reared up and dropped down, reared and dropped Española, New Mexico. Famous metallic-flake paint, chrome trim as the drivers idled bumper to bumper up and down U. S. 285, route like perfect black stallions in movies at El Pasatiempo down the road. Sunlight ricocheted off tinted windshields, of the Pueblos, route of Escalante and Cortez, of Spanish priests, American trappers, traders else, stopping for coffee, a bite to eat, a tank of gas to get them out. In Española the low riders drove all afternoon, all evening, all their lives for all we knew. For half an hour and tourists on their way somewhere we ate in our car and watched them go by and go by. They were home there, like the

Journal

The Missouri ReviewUniversity of Missouri

Published: Oct 5, 1985

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