There is something special about a first car, especially if it was a car you could be proud of.
My first car was a 72 Plymouth Duster with a V-8 engine and a stick shift in the floor transmission. It was sky blue with two flat black hood scoops and white racing stripes on each side. It was not the fastest car around but it sure was fun to drive. It was the only one around and anyone who knew me knew how much I loved it. The car seemed to be made for me. My car didn’t look as good as the one in this picture. But to me it was real close.
I was sixteen when my Mom bought me that car and I was still driving it a year later when Janet and I started dating. During the eighteen months we dated I even taught Janet how to drive it. She had always been afraid of straight drives.