Confession Tuesday

For today’s confession, I am going to discuss something related to my “redneckishness.” I understand that this is not a real word. But HA! You understood what I was talking about though didn’t you?!? See…

Now I know that many of you who know my suave and sophisticated self will have a difficult time believing this, but…I am crazy about muscle cars. I love them. If I could choose a single car to drive (without gas consumption being a factor obviously…) it would be a ’69 Chevrolet Camaro. Quite possibly the most beautiful car ever made…

From whence does this disorder stem, you might ask…let’s delve into my psyche and see what we find (better where some boots…it gets deep in here…)

I believe that it all goes back to when I was a little kid. I have a rather large family and many cousins; however, we were sort of in two groups growing up, an older group and a younger group. I was the youngest cousin in the older group while both of my sisters, who are younger then me, hung with the younger cousins. I stuck with all of the older ones even though some were significantly older than me. I have a cousin, Wendy, who is 5 years older than me that I was very close to when I was young. They were all teenagers in the ‘70’s, and though I was not a teenager, they tended to drag me along every where they went. Of course I was happy to go. The trouble was that whenever and wherever they went, they were racing…muscle cars. I spent many a minute in the floorboard of a Camaro or Chevelle hanging on for dear life. (Of course my parents had no idea that any of this was going on…) The group of cousins was all boys except for Wendy and I, and they all tinkered with cars, raced cars, bought and sold cars. We stood around while they did all of this junk and watched. Now I know very little about cars. (You would think that I would have learned a little something?!?) I am ashamed to say that I am less than mechanically inclined, but I love the curves and shoulders on those old cars. Today’s cars seem to lack any character. Car making seemed to be an art form back then. It has evolved into a much more practical practice. It seems that motorcycles have taken its creative spot in the car’s absence. I’ll save that for another post.

Cars are such an American pastime. Didn’t you see American Graffiti?!? Well certainly you must have seen Better Off Dead?!? (a top ten movie for me which really does not center around cars, but has a really nice Camaro in it…) I know that the car which Lane Meyers drives is a ’67 Camaro and not '69, but it still looks pretty good. Or even Transformers (which is the best movie that I have seen in a long time...outstanding!) There’s nothing like a warm, breezy summer day with the windows down speeding down a country road in a muscle car. The wind in your hair, a good song on the radio, the roar of the engine, and watching the gas gauge drop to the left as you press the pedal. Energy shortage, energy smortage…