Growing up dreaming of cars is part of the American male psyche. [Not sure about the female psyche, never have figured that out.] My earliest memory is of a 1949, black Plymouth sedan. It had a sail boat on the hood, and on the glove compartment. Not sure if I like the car or the sail boats better! My family would often have a Sunday afternoon ride in the country, where I would hang out the window, slap at passing bushes and trees leaves, and feel the wind blowing carelessly past my head. [My folks would be arrested for allowing this activity today!]
The picture to the right shows my Dad, age 3 years, standing on the running board of the 1929, Ford Model A, Touring Car. The picture is dated 18 August, 1929. " What?... Me have any worries?...Not a chance !"...he seems to be saying. Or it could be, "...the fish that got away was this big!" At any rate, he sure seems happy and proud, standing there. A summer day, trees all full, a big smile across the face, are present. Guys and cars... and a fun summer day...some of what growing up is all about. Little did Dad know that only two months in his future would be the stock market crash of October, 1929. What a ride this would be.
Dreaming of cars is part of the female psyche too. Aside from gorgeous outfits, bags, and stilettos, we want to have awesome cars as well. When I was young, I have always dreamed of having a Chevy muscle, but my preference changed as I grew older. Hehe! I've had three cars in the past, and now, I’m aiming for a Mazda Speed 3.
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