Baby You Can Drive My Car

This will not be a long trip down memory lane.  My short term memory is just that -- short.

Bosoxblue6993w, who writes the hilarious Dating Tips for Psychopaths [see Other Journals because I can't create journal links on a MAC] wrote about his favorite car from yesteryear.  And it reminded me of my 1965 Mustang.  My favorite car ever. Wish I hadn't let my ex-husband trade it in for that boat of a Cadillac. The 'Stang was my college graduation present from my parents. Bronze.  Stick shift. And, like Vietnam, the Beatles and Rolling Stones, dropping acid, smoking dope, the pill, protesting as a profession, and doing your own thing, I think it became the wheels for an entire generation.

Okay that car and a psychedelic VW bus.

Just for the heck of it, I googled 1965 Mustang and found dozens of them in various stages of repair.  The best looking one was a tricked out convertible that looked like Pimp My Ride had restored it after a night of partying.  The most remarkable feature was the cost: $79,000, Not bad for a car that cost around $2400 fully loaded back when.  

I hear guys in their thirties [my daughters' generation] talk about the old Mustangs with incredible reverence. And a faraway look in their eyes, like mountain climbers wondering what Everest must have been like in the old days. When I tell them I used to have one of the original Mustangs and it was a stick shift, I suddenly feel a little like one of the three people who still has an actual ticket stub from Woodstock.  "You were THERE?" "You actually OWNED one?"  Hot pants, false eyelashes, mini skirts, hip huggers, disco dancing, go go boots, and a '65 Mustang. Yep, that would be me.

Ah, well. Back to reality. And picking up groceries in the Jeep.