There's nothing flimsy about the '49 Plymouth - it's post-war technology, solid as a tank. The seats are comfy, the steering wheel's wide, and the steel doors shut with a lovely, bass thunk. Lately, in this slow, chill spring, it's Evinrude's favorite place.
He follows the sun - the roof at mid-morning, the hood (where it's cooler) in mid-afternoon, then topside again as evening falls. All around, in the morning glory vines, the jacaranda, the palm and banana trees next door, birds are busy.