House Illuminated (all lit up) for Christmas on Long Island, New York State.

House Illuminated (all lit up) for Christmas on Long Island, New York State.

House Illuminated (all lit up) for Christmas on Long Island, New York State. I bought a video of the decorations from the owner which (to my shame) some seven years later I am still to unwrap.

House Illuminated (all lit up) for Christmas on Long Island, New York State.

House Illuminated (all lit up) for Christmas on Long Island, New York State.

House Illuminated (all lit up) for Christmas on Long Island, New York State.

House Illuminated (all lit up) for Christmas on Long Island, New York State.

House Illuminated (all lit up) for Christmas on Long Island, New York State.

House Illuminated (all lit up) for Christmas on Long Island, New York State.

House Illuminated (all lit up) for Christmas on Long Island, New York State.

House Illuminated (all lit up) for Christmas on Long Island, New York State.

The owner of the property was loitering in the vicinity and so I spoke to him about his house. He told me that in 1997 or 1998 (I can't remember now), he came fourth in the whole of the USA. I wonder if he multiplied?

It was failing memory events like this that made me make all my subsequent visits not merely armed with a camera and credit card but with a dictaphone as well.

Now how about this for something special? It's an interesting hot dog van that I found, parked up on Long Island, New York State.

I wondered whether if ever the owner were to franchise himself to Colonel Sanders, would he call himself the Chicken Shack? On reflection, it might not be the most Perfect name, and I'd Rather Go Blind than eat there, myself.

Or maybe, if he sold burgers, would they be Fleetwood Macs?

Furher on along on my travels around Long Island in New York State and somewhere thereabouts (it was imprecise details like this that prompted me to acquire a dictaphone for my next voyage) I came across this machine parked at the side of the road.

It's an old fire engine, an American LaFrance Fire truck, and I can't tell you any more than that about it. It was the first one that I had ever seen, although I saw another one of these on a subsequent visit to the USA, in a fire station in New Bern, North Carolina in 2005.

Accoring to the writing on the side, it's engine number 8 from the Blue Point Fire Depot, a volunteer firefighting force from Blue Point, which is part of the town of Brookhaven in Suffolk County, Long Island

What was Interesting about this old fire engine was that it was parked up outside a funeral director's establishment. It set me wondering, which is always dangerous, I know, whether some retired fireman had been transported to the afterlife in it, or whether it was there because a cremation had got out of hand.

What was even more interesting was that she was still displaying an "official" licence plate. Whether that means that she's still on official duty (and given the state of public and social funding in the USA that wouldn't surprise me at all) or not, I don't know. But I sent a speculative mail to the Fire Department to ask them about it.

Whether or not they reply remains to be seen of course.

This old car was parked up on a housing estate on Long Island in New York State. For some reason or other I had it marked down in my head that it was a Ford and so I published that accordingly.

However, several people have subsequently written to me to tell me that it isn't a Ford at all but a Studebaker. And that makes sense because looking at the writing on the front wing I was able to decipher the word Champion.

There was a vehicle called a Studebaker Champion and I ought to have known better because I've seen one before and in rural France too.

Apparently she's one of the range of vehicles of the third generation of Studebaker Champions, and this one would appear to be one that was made sometime between 1950 and 1952. The "target" grille that you could see in the previous photo is exclusive to that period.

Anyway, the poor car was sitting there, one tyre flat and looking very sorry for itself. I wonder if she's still there, or whether she's gone to a good home, or whether she's one of the baked bean tins in your cupboard. She deserves better than that.

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