So, my computer died last week, and it has literally been the longest week of my life not having access to a computer. Ellis brings his laptop home at night, but because he often doesn't get home until really late, that hasn't given me a lot of time on it. I am counting down the days until the new guy (and by "guy" I mean computer . . . not mail-order husband) comes in the mail next week. Thus, my FFA this week is a day late.
This week's Friday Free-for-All topic is . . . . First Car
Well, I wasn't sure whether the offical title of "First Car" applied to the first car I drove, or the first car I actually bought myself. I opted for the first one since it is forever burned in my memory. The only problem is that I really couldn't find a picture to do justice to the truck I drove after I first got my license.
When I turned sixteen, my parents graciously let me drive this old Chevy pickup truck that they had recently acquired from a late great-uncle. It was a '66 or '67 (I can't remember which. . . not being the autmobile guru then that I'm really not today). When we first got it, the truck was bright orange. And when I say bright, I mean burn your retinas bright orange. So my parents thought it would be a good idea to paint it.
Opting not to completely take away from its natural beauty, the only thing that was changed was a large white stripe that was painted down the sides of the truck. My parents just weren't sure that anything else would complement the green leather seats so well. I mean, really, can you blame them?
Now lest you think this vehicle was merely eye candy, let me describe for you some of its more endearing qualities. The steering wheel was about twice as big as me and had no power-steering. Trying to turn the brute helped me to acquire the bulging biceps so popular in high school girls. And it did indeed have an AM radio, so I could keep up on my talk radio and hillbilly stations. Not only that, but it usually only took one of my paychecks from Barry's Parkview Drive-In (the local fast-food joint) to fill up the gas tank.
But the best part about driving this truck was that it jingled. That's right, jingled. I was often mistaken for Santa by children from afar. I got a lot of old cookies thrown at me by pissed off kids when I drove by. Yeah, sure, it was festive during the holidays, but it just wasn't practical for everyday driving.
Yes, folks, overall it was the dream first car of any 16-year-old girl.