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No Comments Cars and Dad
My dad loved cars, any kind of car. He bought his first one at fourteen years old; $250 is what he paid for that 1916 Overland. He went to the bank and asked for a loan. The banker asked him who his father was. He told him and without hesitation gave my dad the money. He worked all summer to pay it off. That was a lot of money in 1917. Over his life he spent a lot of money on cars, maybe way too much. He bought himself a Toyota in the 60’s, it was about the size of a 60’s Nova. That started his love affair with cars that got good gas mileage. Other than an old Model A or and occasional Studebaker we steered clear of domestic cars. So I’ve owned several cars from Europe including Alfa Romeo, Fiat, Triumph, MG, Sunbeam, Jaguar, Renault, and Porsche. My last sports car was an Aston Martin DB4. Fast forward to today. I’m driving a Toyota Avalon, a Japanese Buick. Comfy, trouble-free, great gas mileage; everything you could want in a car. I’d like to go back to those days though, take a ride in something that let the seat of your pants know there’s a road under you. I’m trying to resist the urge to get a convertible, not to re-live the past, but to appreciate cars the way my dad did. I wish I could go out in his shop and call him in for coffee. Cars were a connection to my dad; I miss him so much.