Car Number 2
1962 Volkswagen Karmann Ghia - first car of my own. I got married for the first time at the end of my sophomore year at UNC Chapel Hill, we dropped out of school, bought the car in Durham for $800 and drove it to our summer jobs at "The Lost Colony" on the Outer Banks in Manteo, NC where I was the master electrician (at 19, reading my stage lighting text book as fast as I could) and my new wife, Judy was a dancer. At the end of the summer we drove to Baltimore, MD where we got jobs at the Children's Theater of Baltimore, me as technical director, Judy as wardrobe mistress. The really big thing is that is where Cybele was born. Her bassinet fit perfectly in the back seat of the car so we could go to drive-in movies with her snug in the back. Can't do that anymore. By spring, I got fired and we left all the new Danish modern furniture we'd bought on credit and skipped out on the least of our apartment by the beltway that had a sign on it that said "IF YOU LIVED HERE YOU'D BE HOME NOW." The Karmann Ghia just barely made it to Charlotte and mom gave us her Chevy Bel Air out of her bottomless maternal love. Where would we be without our moms?
In high School
Sometimes I think outside of a few large urban areas, our whole American culture has a very personal connection to cars. I sure do. I was reminded recently of my mom driving me on my first dates with my first girl friend, who will probably read this. It's embarrassing to have to be driven around by your mom on an actual date. But it's better than not having the date. That was 1957 Buick Special convertible, white with red leather upholstery that my dad left us with when he was sent to Vietnam in 1961 to help start that war. But this about cars.
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