Ah, first cars!
Do you remember Marissa Tomei in My Cousin Vinny?
This could be me! Everyone in my family was a mechanic. My grandfather, my dad, both of my uncles. Saturdays were always at my grandfather's place in College Point, NY, where his garage was full of things I wasn't allowed to touch -- tools of his trade for rebuilding cars for his customers. Nick Moreno was a legend back then!
When I was sixteen and finally allowed to drive, my mother had inherited her dad's car and would let me practice with her on errands. That car would later become a cult classic thanks to this show:
Our Impala was a 1965 in a dark burgundy or maroon color. My grandfather used to work for Bellevue Hospital in NYC and had a parking sticker affixed to the bumper. Many years after Mom sold the car, we'd spot it around town and always knew it was "ours" because of that sticker.
It was the first car I ever saw with power windows. It had a very distinctive odor. All cars do, but this one was special. Something about the way the sun baked the interior of this car.
It drove like a brick, felt like a tank and there was so much play in the power steering, you could wiggle the wheel practically 90 degrees in either direction and still go straight.
I loved that car because it was my first taste of adult life. It meant freedom. Driving to the beach with the windows all down.
As time went by, I've had some truly awful cars. There was the Dodge Shadow we soon discovered was perfectly named because it only worked when the sun was out. There was the Pontiac Phoenix the Shadow was supposed to replace but ended up lasting longer! We had a Renault Fuego not once, but twice and got stuck with it on a windy road in upstate New York where the tow druck driver from the lone garage in town kept calling it a Ren-woir.
We had a whole fleet of Tauruses (Taurii?) -- three at one time. Great car. One had a head gasket blow, the other had body/frame rust and the third -- I can't remember -- think it was a blown transmission. But all three of them got nearly 200,000 miles on them.
We had a Buick once -- oh, that was scary! I hydroplaned through a red light facing backwards during a sun shower and didn't hit a single thing!
We were talking about splurges one day. Like if you won a ton of money, what car would you buy. I thought about it. I mean who wouldn't want a Lexus or a Mercedes or a Ferrari? But the longer I thought about it, the more I realized, I miss the smells of the oil and the gasoline in those old muscle cars from the '60s my grandfather and dad were rebuilding when I was a kid.
So this would be my dream car:
This is THE muscle car: a 1969 Pontiac GTO with hideaway headlights and a hood mounted tachometer. Yes, I can drive a stick shift!
It's becoming a lost art, along with writing cursive. :)
This car probably gets about 6 miles to the gallon, but look at her! She is an absolute beauty, even at the old age of nearly 60!
I love this car so much, I made it a focal point in my latest YA novel, The Smell of Smoke And Ash, now a NERFA-winning story:
When my son was a baby, his first word was Brmmm-brmmmm. Is it any wonder he'd grow up to be a motorsports reporter in Charlotte, NC?
Tell me what your dream car is: classic or new?
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