Too many interruptions to do any work on the car today, but I sat in the garage with a cup of coffee and took a few minutes to reminisce about my first affair with a '56 Plymouth.
I was listening to a radio talk show last week, and they were discussing why everyone believes that music from their generation is always the best. They said it has nothing to do with the technical or artistic quality of the music, but rather which songs you associate with the most enjoyable times of your life, and the nostalgia that music generates. Not sure if that's true, because there wasn't an awful lot about my high school years that I recall as enjoyable.
Anyway, my memories of driving dad's '56 Belvedere include my first girlfriend...cute, brown-eyed, straight-laced, not quite filled out, with a great sense of humor and an addiction to potato chips. I'd borrow dad's car for those special dates, like proms and anything else I could convince him demanded that I drive something cleaner and classier than my well-used '48 Plymouth to chauffer a young lady wearing a dress with yards of crinoline petty coats and a white sweater. This song was very popular at the time, so it also belongs in those memories, and for what it's worth, I'll put the quality of nearly all the music from my era up against anything ever recorded. The cars and the music were golden and history will remember both long after hip-hop and the generic look-alike cars of today are long gone.
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