Driving a hot car is a lot like sex to me, or a lot like I keep
thinking sex should be: A total body experience, overwhelming, to all
the senses, taking you places you've never been, packing a punch that
leaves you breathless and touches your soul. The Viper was way more
satisfying then my last boyfriend.
~Karen Marie Moning, Faefever
13 years ago I was suffering from an empty nest and a bad marriage. The car I was driving had some mechanical issues, and since I was working full time in a well-paying job, I wanted a new car. Perhaps the most telling thing of all was that for the first time in my married life I went car shopping alone. I wanted a Mustang convertible and I knew my then-husband would not approve.
My love of the Mustang went way back. I had a very fond memory of driving around Everett, Washington in my older cousin Steve's beautiful little Mustang. It was one of the earliest models, the ones I still find myself drooling over. Later, when I was in college, my father (who worked for Ford) was given a souped up fast-back Mustang to test drive. He took me out late one evening on a local divided highway-- late enough it was almost devoid of cars -- looked at me and said, "Don't tell your mother about this..." and hit the accelerator. Floored it. The engine roared, the tires squeeled just a little and we were off-- zooming down the road faster than I'd ever gone in a car in my life. I closed my eyes when we passed 100 mph and felt both fear and exhilaration... Dad slowed the car down, and we drove at a sensible speed the rest of the way home. I don't recall saying anything at all to one another-- we just enjoyed the mutual experience of speed and POWER. That was when I developed my "lead foot" and I must confess, I still have it.
Anyway, knowing full well I was not going to get approval from my husband, I shopped and found the car of my dreams. A sleek, white Mustang convertible with of all things, a black racing stripe. The car had a smaller engine and an automatic transmission, which I hoped would temper my innate desire for speed a little bit. It still had quite a bit of pickup and the engine had a hint of a growl that I loved. When I announced my plans, my husband reacted with little fuss and went with me to the dealer. He seemed to enjoy driving the car as much as I did, so I had high hopes it would be a thing of pleasure for us.
That wasn't to be... and a few years later when I found myself in a divorce, I used to periodically take the car for drives in the country. Out on the dirt roads of Johnson County I would "open her up" and hurl myself down the road, feeling the exhilaration of the speed and the wind in my hair. With the radio cranked way up I am sure I was a sight to the farmers I passed... aging redhead driving a flashy convertible like an idiot.
I was driving the car when I met Lanny. He is a "car guy" and got a kick out of the car almost as much as I did. It wasn't a muscle car, but it was cute. It was not, however, practical in the winter. I ended up getting a second car that had 4 wheel drive, to drive in bad weather. Over time, the Mustang became a fair-weather car that we drove only on warm, sunny days. We used to drive country roads here in Hendricks County, on weekends when I needed a little break from stress. Driving together in a convertible on a sunny day became something we did as often as we could (and it usually involved a stop at The Frost Bite for ice cream cones!)
Last summer we attended the Studebaker International Meet in Southbend, Indiana and much to our surprise, ended up buying a 1950 Champion convertible. I loved this car so much I told Lanny I'd sell the Mustang to help defray the cost.
There were a few delays in the sale of the car so we could lend it to a family member in need, and then Lanny wanted to "work on her" a little to get maximum value for the car. Finally, the car was ready last Thursday. I took some photos and Lanny posted them on Craig's list. The phone started ringing immediately and by mid afternoon on Friday Lanny had sold the car. We got more than what we had thought we would.
I found I had a bit more of an emotional attachment to the car than I thought. She had helped me weather some very bumpy roads in my life, had driven me to meet the man of my dreams. She had provided hours and hours of excellent driving pleasure. She had been here to help rescue someone who had needed a car. She had been a Good Car.
The man who bought her plans on giving her to his young daughter. My hope is that she will get as much pleasure from her as I did... providing she drives safely, uses her seat belt, doesn't text or use her cell phone while driving, etc.
And yesterday, on the first glorious spring day of 2013, we took the 1950 Champion named Ruby Studebaker for a test drive. She had also been up on blocks all winter getting a new brake system and some other improvements, provided her owner with the pleasures of "tinkering". And she provided us with that same enjoyment of driving the country roads on a sunny day...
So, with a smile on my face I bid farewell to my little white Mustang and greet enthusiastically my new dream car!
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