Frank uncle, thatz what I called him, my neighbor from my childhood, we moved into this new neighborhood and he had recently returned after a couple of years in the middle east. He never called it gulf like the others, maybe like the others he was not at Gulf. I think he was a mechanic by trade, but he was a superb handyman, there wasn’t any gadget he couldn’t fix, not that there were a lot in the middle class neighborhood. He worked with Usha Telehost or something that sounded like that, didn’t know when he went to work, he was always at home, I always saw him greased clothes, except on the odd Sundays or around x-mas. He wasn’t your average mechanic, there would always be a strange car, outside always, a car which was not normally sighted on the roads, but once in a blue-moon would spot it at Victoria layout, Benson town, where those old people with strange English names lived. He would have stories about the owner and the car. There were vintage a quarter century ago. Guess...