A Trip To Yesteryear, Buying Your First Car

Everyone remembers this mile stone event in their lives. Buying a car of their own for the very first time. It may have not been the newest, greatest model on the planet, but it was yours. The thrill of buying a car for the first time is not often surpassed. Other events will rate just as high on the memory scale, such as the birth of your children, or your first home purchase, but there is something special to a first car. This is a rite of passage for many, and the first step of independence. Many others would wonder about your amazement of your first ride, and no explanation is needed. It is just there.

Herein lies this authors personal memory of his first car ever bought. At sixteen years old, and just getting underway in my junior year of high school, a strange event happened after school. First, my father was home. Strange, since I cannot remember any other day that he was home before I was. Second, he needed to speak to me in private. Naturally, I was expecting bad news or a sickness or worse in the family. Not this time, and feeling a sigh of relief, my father said that he had found me the perfect first car to buy. Having good taste in autos, I knew this would be good. One of his gear head buddies at the machine shop uptown had the car, so we headed up to take a look. Imagine my surprise when we parked next to a 1970 Fastback Mustang.

This car had all the right parts in all the right places, spoilers, shaker hood scoop, louvers on the back window. Air shocks and big, wide tires on the back and skinny tires on the front. After about a grand total of three seconds, I knew I had to buy this car. Popping the hood revealed the high output Boss302 engine and the Top Loader 4-speed transmission. My father's gear head buddy explained that this car was set for the drags, but was also perfectly fine for a sixteen year old kid. My father agreed, but my mother was a different story. We finally won her over and agreed to buy the car the next day.

After finally making it through the longest school day recorded by man, and then waiting for my father to come home from work, we finally were headed out for me to buy a car. My older brother went along for the transaction, and would drive my fathers car back to the house. After I paid the man for the car, he signed over the title right there on the hood, and finally, all of those hours put in at the golf course mowing paid off for me. Dad was the first one to drive, as he said the car was "cold blooded". I still believe to this day that statement was a ruse. We get the engine started up, and drive off the lot. I'm in the passenger seat checking out the windows, glove box, radio, etc, when all of a sudden my father steps into all four barrels of the carburetor. Four gears later and at 70 M.P.H. I wonder just what kind of mess I have got myself into. After slowing down, and dislodging the seat from my behind, my father looks over at me and says "huh, seems to run pretty good." Gee, thanks.

Remembering the first time I decided to buy a car will forever be etched into my memory. My father and I spent countless hours under the hood of that car and others over the years. Looking back, I now know that this decision was to give us many hours spent together. Maybe, just maybe, he knew what he was talking about.

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