January 20, 2003
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All this head-tripping about cars lately has got me thinking about my very first car. When I was a senior in high school (1964), I got this after-school job working as a kennel boy. The kennel was maybe eight miles from home, so a car was a necessity. I soon found a 1955 Mercury two-door hardtop. It had a 302 cubic inch engine and dual Weber carbs. It looked liked a Mafia staff car, and it went like a bat out of hell. (Later, when I was in college, some kids I was giving a ride to were making fun of the car. To shut them up, I floored it and we were soon going about 100 mph. Terrified, my passengers apologized and begged me to slow down. I did.
The car served me well for years, until it was broadsided in a shopping center parking lot by some fat chick
driving a 1958 Chevrolet. I drove away from the accident, her car had to be towed. After the accident, my previously cherry-looking black Merc had a puke green front fender and a blue passenger side door. It was never the same after that, and I traded it in on a 1961 Oldsmobile F-85.
Comments (2)
wow, a road warrior meets it’s fate in a parking lot. go figure?
Mine was a 38 Ford with no fenders. It did 83 miles an hour in 3rd gear and 82 in 2nd. That was the first car actually in my name. I think everyone in the neighborhood owned it before me. One day they passed a law that all cars had to have fenders. That was the beginning of the end for our favorite rod.