Lynn's Comments: When I was 16, I went to Montreal to visit my mom's sister Monica and her family. It was the time of greased hair and Elvis wannabes. My cousin Marty had the best hair. He wore it in a perfect "duck tail" with a suave curl on the forehead. He looked like he was right out of "West Side Story." His dad, my uncle Maurice, owned a Cadillac convertible and was happy to load all of us kids into it. I was surprised when Marty complained that his dad was putting the top down—the rest of us were thrilled. My memory of that drive to the country is Marty crouched in the back trying to keep his hair straight while the rest of us enjoyed the wind.