Baby, You Can Drive My Car

I developed an affinity for automobiles early on as evidenced by the above photo. I don’t know how old I was, but I’m amused by the fact that the car I’m holding is missing a wheel cover. I’m guessing it was taken while I was simultaneously developing my anal retentive tendencies because that would not have been allowed to stand by time I got to first grade. As a kid I had all the toy cars; Matchbox, Hot Wheels and even a few coveted Corgis. When I was cleaning out my mom’s house in preparation for her move I found a small case containing several of them that she had saved. Bless.

Back in the day new car introductions were major events every fall. My dad was not a car guy at all, but he was a great dad and he knew how excited I was to see all the new offerings from Detroit (Japanese cars were pretty much nonexistent then and European cars with the exception of Volkswagens were considered something of a novelty) so he would dutifully take me to the car dealerships on a Saturday morning in September where I would collect all the brochures I could carry and then spend the afternoon in my room poring over them.

I often identified people by the cars they drove; teachers, friends of my parents, neighbors. One of the most notable was a single woman who lived on our street and drove a beautiful buttery yellow 1962 Thunderbird convertible. She was also the neighborhood slut. I remember being mesmerized by that car and vowed that one day I would own one and by golly, 40 years later I did. Though I was NOT the neighborhood slut despite what you may have heard about why I moved a few years ago.

Some of you remember my first car because you rode in it when we went to lunch at Taco Bell at least a couple of times a week during high school.

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It was a 1957 Chevrolet Belair 4 door hardtop that I bought with money I earned from sacking groceries at Handy Andy. Every car enthusiast has that one car they wish they’d kept and I suppose this would be mine. I paid the princely sum of $500 for it in 1973 and a quick search online shows similar models going for around $25,000 these days. Shoulda, coulda, woulda.

After the ’57 Chevy I drove a succession of cars that were reflective of the times in which they were purchased and largely forgettable. The only real memorable one in the bunch was an Audi 5000 which I bought new in 1985. It earned that distinction not because it was the first imported car I’d ever owned, but rather because it was the biggest crapwagon ever. I only drove it for a couple of years and took a bath on it when I sold it. As a result of that experience I went straight to the Honda dealer, picked out a new Accord sedan, and kept coming back until about 5 years ago when I drank the Subaru Kool Aid. Sometime in the future if you’re watching the evening news and they air a segment about an elderly gentleman who drove his 2041 Outback through the front of a convenience store because he mistook the accelerator for the brake pedal don’t be surprised if it’s me.

And of course a lot of people remember the classic cars that I once owned.

1960 Buick Electra “Moby”

1956 Chevrolet 210 “Aquanette”

1962 Ford Thunderbird “Swoopy”

It was like having a full size Matchbox car collection though unfortunately they didn’t fit in a case I could keep under the bed or else I might still have them. I always liked to say that Moby was my first love, Aquanette was my true love and Swoopy was the lover who bled me dry but looked fabulous while doing it.

Cars have evolved quite a bit since I bought my first one nearly fifty years ago and the automotive industry in general is being transformed to a degree that’s on par with the introduction of the Model T. Developments like ride sharing, self-driving capabilities, connectivity and electrification all point to a future where we will view cars differently than we have in the past. And while it might not be the same feeling that this 9 year old had when he first laid eyes on a brand new Toronado on the showroom floor at Menger Oldsmobile, it’s still pretty exciting.