I remembered meeting an old guy named Karl Heinz at a local car show. He had a truck that was so ugly that it was magnificent. It was a repatriated 19...7 GM truck that had been sent to Russia and rebuilt with locally available components, then run until it died. He'd somehow gotten the thing re-imported and rebuilt it once again. I remembered how he bragged on it. There were no plastics on the thing except bakelite! I knew that Bakelite wasn't a petrocarbon, so chances were that the thing. “Why do I suddenly feel like I’m in junior high school again?”“I’m not that young!” said Jennifer, on the brink of tears.“No, it’s not you,” he said, reaching for her. “Believe it or not, I don’t think of you as a lot younger than I am. I know you’re younger, but I don’t think of you that way. But adults don’t like each other. They fall in love. It was saying she likes me that made me feel silly. I should say she’s interested in me. Or something. That’s the problem. I don’t know what to do. I. More

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