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I don't remember asking.
But at the beginning of my senior year, all of a sudden Dad was looking at cars.
Not just any cars, but cars for me.
I don't know if it was the weariness of driving me back and forth to town for yearbook, basketball, theatre practice, etc. or what, but I guess it came time for me to have a car.
I remember being on Joe Martin Road and looking at a 1966 baby blue Mustang 4 on the floor, which in 1981 and at even a young age...I knew would be a classic car I would want to drive for the rest of my life. The guy kept talking about what great shape it was in , but at the end of the inspection dad said, "It's still an old car."
He found the car that would be mine at the stop sign on Clay Street south of
Wilco. Carlson's white house I believe. A 1973 Capri. He didn't even ask if I wanted it. I, of course, still stunned a little that I was actually getting a car, gladly accepted. I recall him telling me: "remember, it's a small car with a lot of engine." It was a V6...which meant little to me. It was red and it was for me.
I also remember the day after we brought it home, mom saying: "now it's time for you to get a job." And my 10 or so hour a week career at
Stuckey's began shortly after.
I remember how terrified I was realizing how light it was on ice when driving to Shawn Clark's house on the nine mile when it starting going down the road sideways. I remember how crushed I was when I put the first dent in it after an ridiculous incident on the driveway involving ice, pushing, mixing up the clutch with the brake and a great big evergreen tree that didn't move.
It's this car and it's lack of working
seat belts that explains why to this day when I slam on the brakes my arm shoots out like a protective mother to hold back anyone in the passenger seat. (All ingrained from a summer of babysitting Sarah and Cody).
It is the car I packed my belongings in when I first moved away from home to Ball State.
And the first car I broke down on a country road outside of Frankfort and had to rely on the help of strangers to get to the garage that would be my first experience with mechanics.
And it's the first car that broke my heart when it just got to wore out to run anymore...because I loved it and wanted to drive it forever.
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Last time I saw the Capri, it was parked out in the lot between Uncle Ralph's/
Swansons and the house. In maybe 1990
ish, Dad ended up selling it to a guy (maybe from
Demotte) who was going to restore it and have it ready for when his daughter turned 18. His daughter was then a 1 year old...which if he ever completed it, means some girl, maybe another
justagirl, could be riding around in it this
friday nite. Have you seen it?
All this was brought to mind with the prospect of picking up my new car today. I have to admit, I haven't been this giddy about getting a new car, since I was driving the Capri around the circle drive of the Log Cabin, trying to get the stick shift thing down.
Thanks Mom and Dad for buying me a red car.
Directions to here:
Tell me about YOUR first.