It’s spring, when thoughts turn to love and cars. Fondly I recall my first new car, a 1974 Toyota Corolla. I was so green I didn’t know you could negotiate the cost so I paid the full sticker price. I went in to pick it up tried to haggle with the salesman and he said, “You can’t do that.”
“Oh, OK” What did I know about the world?
Imagine $4,300.00 for a new car. It thrilled to drive it off the lot and if I lurched about trying to learn to drive a stick, that excited too.
It was the perfect car to drive about the Midwest for rugby matches, including the Ohio Under 23 select side match against Michigan. I drove with “Moose” and we won the game, on the
way home my mileage was way down and I was sure my car new car was failing. Imagine my relief when I discovered Moose’s bulk cost me six miles per gallon.
Now I dream of a Toyota Land Cruiser and a Corvette, but somehow I don’t think they’ll thrill like a Grey Toyota with a motor smaller than Harley Hog.
I’d love to hear about your first car.
We had such good comments, that I invite you to share a picture if you have it…
I put the Christmas tree out. It stands at attention in the snow bank on the tree lawn. It was a good tree, had served us well. To leave it on it’s side, forlorn seemed unworthy disrespect.
I remember going out with my father to pick a tree. We would drive out to the country were a farmer would let us go across his land for a few dollars paid.
We would always find one that had a flaw, not the prettiest, but something that made it special. Maybe a bald spot, or a branch bending the wrong way.
I would cut only a full pulls before my child arms tired, and my father would finish and I would help him drag it back in the snow to home.
My sisters would complain that we never got the right tree, but they never understood, it was just the right one.
So I guess in so many words I am saying that in your poem is the power to bring forth old memories.
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