Why else would I want to use a picture of my 1950 Plymouth in the first posting to my new blog other than to make this splendid old vehicle a metaphor for my life after the age of 16. Cars are where life began in the 1960’s. Everywhere that was of any interest to to a recently mobilized 16 year old was a least 15 miles from where one lived and to meet in the parking lot of the Red Barn for a 15 cent burger with all the other 20 year old vehicles was a sight to behold.
To elaborate on how fundamental cars were to my generation I will post just one more of the 40+ models I have owned and ultimately destroyed in my more than 50 years of driving. This 1953 ford or meteor, can’t tell which, was one of several 53′ ford models which were purchased for less than $200 and in time towed to the scrap yard for parts. That was our job in the 60’s, find homes for the diseased rust ridden rejects of the modern car culture that was emerging and give them a decent farewell after squeezing the last drop of oil through their constantly leaking pan gaskets.
I have convinced myself to be more positive and deal with the future benefits of my new found freedom and spend less time lamenting the past. My thoughts are to take the high road from now on, in relation to my past difficulties and to save fuel. In spite of a decision to use a bike as my principal mode of transport I am quite keen on those little Fiats 500’s.