But both of them find some kind of exhilaration and pride in the accomplishment. Last, I pass on to you Burt Levy's The Last Open Road . He is a living, breathing reality from the first paragraph, with a style that is tough, funny, and down to earth. He becomes a sports car mechanic in the early 1950's, when races were run on the open roads through countryside and small towns. The novel lovingly dwells on Jaguars and Ferraris and MGs, and the excitement of the races.
Buddy loves it all.
He knows he could work the racing circuit forever if he chose, but he also knows that, like the rich Jewish guy who is his patron, he will never really fit in with the rich WASPs the sport belongs to. Buddy's growing up is the recitative between the races that are the impassioned arias. Even people like me, who don't much care about cars or racing, can understand the obsession by the time they've finished reading this. Grab a book and enjoy your lemonade, everybody. My Fox column, Observing US is now weekly, usually posted on Wednesday afternoons.