When I was 16, my dad bought me this.
*Not an actual picture of the car I owned. I can't find one!
A 1969 Ford Convertible Mustang.
Believe it or not, I wasn't thrilled... it needed work. And my sister's got the the ultimate chick convertibles, the Fiat Spider and the Volkswagon Cabriolet. Now THOSE were hot convertibles. At least that is what I thought until I got behind the wheel.
That piece of machinery was my first foray into complete and total car love and snobbery. Which is why I have such a hard time admitting to THIS. Anywho. . . If you really want to know why on earth a guy with 5 daughters would buy them convertibles to drive you are going to have to ask him personally. I don't know, I didn't ask questions. Would you?
Moving on. . . I wasn't a huge fan of the car at first. I mean, it wasn't the "classic" 65 model and it felt a little retro. (Even back then) I didn't LOVE the body style but when I got behind the wheel, it didn't matter anymore. That car had a 4 speed. For those manual car drivers that means that you can pretty much hit close to 50 in 1st gear, without shifting.
I burned out four or five clutches. To this day, I swore to my dad I had NO IDEA why I was burning out clutches.. Old car I guess? ! !? Um, no. It is because I had a new fondness for the speed and power of a fast car. A fast CONVERTIBLE car. And because, I couldn't help but smoke someone off the line at a stop light. Especially when they were revving their engine at me. I mean, come on. You would. If you could. You KNOW you would. People couldn't resist the temptation to want to race me because it sounded like they were pulling up next to a boat. Wob, wob, wob, wob. That is how the engine sounded in idle. . . and it was LOUD. I am sure they were just dying to see the speed. . . eat my dust. . . they begged for it. I gave it freely.
I got several tickets in that car. You could punch it on the freeway going 60 and it would still throw you back in your seat. You don't understand the power of a Boss 302 engine until you have driven one. I don't even know what that means... I have just driven one.
Ever since then, I pretty much considered myself born to drive a convertible. Yeah. I was. I look good in one. Someday, when I don't have to tote kids around, you might find me in one again. And I will look something like this. . .
I am a serious car driver. And an even MORE serious sports car driver. Because when they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up during 8th grade spotlights I said, I wanted to be a race-car driver. Danica Patrick, eat your heart out. I TOTALLY had the jump on you. You are SO NOT the first.
However, for today, I had a friend. A friend in the back.
That is ok. She likes loud music.
She had to, because she was planted right next to that sub woofer.