Burford decided he wanted a CB. Philo told Burford he'd be lucky to find what he needed at a truck stop for less than a hundred bucks. At the next truck stop, we parked right next to this guy:
He didn't think much of what we were doing. I told him I thought it was awesome. "Somewhere between awesome and gruesome," he said and went on to suggest that we'd missed our rendezvous with the Hale-Bopp Mothership.
To his credit, he was willing to be amused, sort of. And for the radio, antenna, and installation he was willing to charge only thirty-five bucks. On one condition: that we don't credit him--at least not for the install. (The antenna magnet wasn't strong enough, so Burford just sticks it out the rear air vent.) I told him we'd credit "Casualty CB." That seemed to satisfy him.
So just forget you've seen the above photo, okay? (And tell him Deuce of Clubs sent you!)