text: I used to travel a great deal. Part of that was due to the nature of my job but the rest fell back to a life-long interest in seeing quant little country towns. Frankly, I loved touring the wide-open road in my sporty convertible and discovering new haunts along the way. It made the soulless drudgery of life a little bit more bearable for me. In all of my years traveling for work or pleasure though, I never uncovered another place quite like the strange little town of ‘Newton’. It is unique. I stumbled across this virtual time capsule by pure coincidence. I’d meant to take the freeway to a much more familiar destination but somehow missed the turn. From that point on, my plans went completely off the rails. All of a sudden I found myself smack dab in the middle of a bizarro ‘time warp’. Honestly, I could scarcely even believe the place was real. The sleepy little community I discovered by pure happenstance is an amazing tribute to a bygone era. Every car which passed me by on the road was a vintage automobile. At first I assumed I’d stumbled onto a classic car parade, or a showcase rally for professional restorations but there were no newer model cars anywhere to be seen! It was genuinely startling and that wasn’t the only odd thing either. Not by a long shot. Everywhere I looked, I saw long outdated technology and forgotten signs of the past. The gas pumps didn’t even have a ‘pay at the pump’ feature; and ‘regular’ fuel was still an option there! I was dumbstruck by the very notion that leaded gas was still available. I thought it had been outlawed for years. Another thing which struck me as rather strange was the unwavering commitment each motorist had to honk at each other as they passed by. It wasn’t an angry, blaring blast of fury to release frustration either. They just tooted their horns lightly at each other and then waved, as a polite greeting. Frankly, watching that social exchange was surreal. I’d never witnessed anyone honk their horn as a gesture of respect. In larger towns and metropolitan cities I’ve frequented, a horn blast is primarily used as a sonic weapon. A few sharp honks are typically issued to chastise the poor driving skills of the other driver. There in Newton however, I found it to be an exclusive courtesy response. Before I could expend any more effort analyzing this incredibly different behavior, I witnessed a number of other startling things. The town had an honest-to-goodness drive-in movie theater and a soda fountain counter downtown! It was a welcomed slice of lovely Americana which I assumed was long gone. An involuntary smile crept across my face as I drank it all in. Unsurprisingly, the prices for food, fuel, and other general commodities were in line with the same distant time period. I stopped in to look over the available wares of a Woolworth dime store. It was eye-opening! The atmosphere was that of the early 1970’s ‘home town USA’. Even the dress style of employees and the customers suggested ‘a blast from the past’. Large collars, sideburns, wingtip shoes, and horn-rimmed glasses dotted the idyllic landscape. Small kids were outside jumping rope and playing hopscotch on the sidewalk. In one well-manicured neighborhood, I witnessed a young man delivering newspapers door-to-door by his bicycle! The whole thing was incredible. At first I was too stunned to do anything other than walk around and stare in bewilderment at the unexpected time capsule. That soon however gave way to opportunity. At the town dealership, almost new looking classic cars were available for used ‘clunker’ prices! I had to decide whether I wanted to buy a stunning 1969 Dodge Charger, or a beautiful Corvette Stingray for the equivalent of couch cushion change. In reality I wanted to buy both of them and a dozen other underpriced ‘treasures’ but no business in town accepted credit cards. I only had enough cash in my wallet to buy one of those jaw-dropping beauties. If there had been an ATM, I would’ve loaded up a whole car carrier full of gas-guzzling American muscle cars of the past and miscellaneous antique finds. Unfortunately that wasn’t an option. Back driving on the main highway, the motorists honked at each other and waved dutifully. I was a bit amused to realize that I wasn’t worthy of a honk from any of them. Obviously they could tell I was ‘an outsider’. I found myself envying those tight-knit townsfolk who knew and respected each other. It never occurred to me that I wasn’t honking at any of them first. Once I realized that in the sleepy bygone town, you probably had to give a toot to get one, I initiated the process and received my very first friendly honk! I was thrilled and it made me grin again in fulfillment. It felt absolutely fantastic to finally be accepted in such a personal way. Right then and there, I decided I was so in love with the magical place that I wanted it to become my hometown too. I begrudgingly drove my ‘new’ 1969 Charger Hemi R/T back toward my current home address with a level of satisfaction I’d never experienced before. I had honest intentions of packing up all my possessions and permanently settling in Newton immediately, but I decided there was always time for that necessary responsibility later on. It felt too good behind the wheel to spoil the moment. Instead I gripped the stick and desperately wished to continue acclimating to my newly-adopted home. It was completely intoxicating. I received dozens of courtesy honks and waves from my new neighbors as I tried to locate the interstate on ramp. The sooner I gathered up my things, the sooner I could initiate my permanent departure from my old life, and start my new one. I was certain the way out of town had to be nearby but I couldn’t manage to locate the exit. There were no signs. I must have driven in circles for hours. Finally I threw up my hands in surrender and gave up. Leaving to tie my loose ends just didn’t feel important anymore. I was hungry and Dave’s Drive In has a special on a burger, fries, and a chocolate malt milkshake for $1.35. A man’s gotta eat, right? Luckily, the miracle of 5G Internet even reaches the outskirts of Newton airwaves so I’m sending out this final notification to my friends, family, and employers. I’m not coming back. I’ve found a great job as a mechanic at Rawston’s garage, a good apartment downtown, and tomorrow I’m going to ask out Sarah the waitress from the soda fountain.