Saturday, July 7, 2007
Six of 7
Most of you don't know this about me, but when I was a teenager growing up in the seventies, I wanted a Mustang. Not just any Mustang, either. My dad told me he would buy me a car for my 16th birthday, but it would not be a Mustang. He would buy me a Volkswagon Bug. !!! No way! Young and stupid you are, Yoda would say. If I had been smart, I would've taken my dad up on his offer, and then after a year, sold the Bug and bought my Rat, but this is what growing up is all about, right? I grew up surrounded by cousins who were mostly male, and I was quite the tomboy. I could play basketball and beat any of them one on one. I was the only girl they allowed to play baseball with them. And of the many names I was called, Camhead was one of them. My dad knew me too well. He wanted me to have something that I couldn't wrap around a phone pole. Needless to say, I never did get my Mustang. Until now. My husband is doing well in his business and he's decided that I should have my Mustang. So, I am on the look-out, but I have very specific specs. My dream car is a 1967 Mustang with a 351 Cleveland engine and that's just the beginning. Too many extras to list here. Dark blue paint. To be christened the Mad Rat II in honor of a guy in my hometown who had the baddest Mustang around. And no, my kids won't be allowed to drive it, because I know what I was like. Now that I'm older, I realize just how smart my dad was. Can you read the plate? 2B pencil in small moleskine.