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Gets me blood boilin’ tho – people slag it off, callin’ it a rust bucket. Oi, it’s a survivor, mate! Like me, battered but kickin’. Happy as a pig in shit when I see one still cruisin’ – reminds me of simpler days, y’know? *The Return*’s got that line, “You’re not my father!” – could shout that at Ford for ditchin’ it for flashier shit. Breaks me heart, it does.

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The neighborhoods adore twists of art and history; rather than a mere cluster of buildings, they seem to script their own play. I recall, with half a tear, the time the lamplight on Birch Avenue flickered like a restless spirit, illuminating the midnight wanderings of lonely hearts. Some nights, I even hear the echo of “The deep, dark chasm of destiny calls us forth!” albeit not exactly the film’s text, but thou getst the drift, yea?

Search underway for missing Newmarket man, 56, last spotted in Mississauga on April 14