Friday, May 15, 2009
When I was about to graduate from high school, my dad bought me a 1968 Camero for a gift. My uncle owned a Chevy dealership and that is all we drove.
Wow! What a gift it was and I got to pick it out. Rallye Green with a white racing stripe around the front, 327, 4 on the floor and bucket seats. What a fine car for an aspiring race car driver and for a girl child growing up in the 50's. If you haven't read my older post, Teacher, Mother or Nurse, You can read what I went through back then and understand the importance of this car.
This car was my best friend, my constant companion, my freedom. One day, I decided to let it rip on a newly built highway. It was my test run, the salt flats, my highway to heaven. And it was almost that. After traveling 120 mph, the exit ramp not only awarded me with a ticket, but also a flat tire.
I had to go to court. The judge was the father of my sister's best friend. Thank God!
"How many feet per second were you going at 120 mph?" he asked. "Hmmm.... I don't know, how many feet per second is that, Judge?" Silence. All at once the entire courtroom burst out laughing. I was saved.
My dad threatened to put a governor on the engine. Every time he drove my car, the cops would follow him, thinking it was me.
One afternoon, I was conducting my weekly time trials on a cool winding road from one town to the next. I was powerful, free, and in a great deal of trouble, when I spun out and hit a tree. I tried to escape but the engine wouldn't start. A seminary was down the road, and the students along with the priest were running towards me, probably to see if I needed my last rights. The end result was having my precious car towed and a ride home from the state patrol.
"Look, I said, my dad is going to freak out, so I would appreciate it if you would just drop me off, and quickly take off." No deal. When my dad saw that cop car, he flung open the door, stepped out on the porch and yelled, "Where's the Car!!" That was the first time I ever saw my dad cry.
Well, what am I driving now, you ask? I have a yellow Nissan Xterra. Perfect for my canoe, dogs, and bicycle. It's not the same though. I am not washing off the mud on the sides of the Xterra, from the long winding driveway back to my house. I am hoping for an image of Jesus or the Virgin Mary, and sell the thing for a small fortune on Ebay. Then, I will have the money to finally buy the car of my dreams, a 1968 Camero!