My Single Mom Life

I came across this cool blog about cars, it's a Mustang blog, that's what they mostly talk about, and I do love American muscle cars.
I have always loved old Mustangs especially.
There's something about that car that when I see one, I just stop and stare.
It's a beautiful vehicle.

I saw my first Mustang when I was about 14.
My friend Jenny's dad, had an old '65 Mustang parked in the driveway.
He was fixing it up, restoring it.
Every payday, he'd go buy another part it needed, and he tried to only buy original parts.
He'd hit up junk yards, and specialty auto parts stores, and work on it all weekend long.
I remember when he finally got it finished, and then got the paint job done.
He got that silver blue paint, and he painstakingly taped over the chrome, and wiper blades, the windshield, and all the other parts, and then with a pressure painter, he gave that car 3 coats.
It looked so beautiful.
Then he put on two or three coats of wax, to keep it looking good.
He polished the chrome over and over, so much that when the sun shone down and hit it just right, the light bouncing off of it would blind you.

It was a gorgeous car.
He got in, slipped in the key, and it purred.
He looked over at Jenny and I, who always sat on the porch on those weekends and watched him work on it, hand him wrenches and other tools he needed, and bring him cups of lemonade, and he asked us if we wanted to go for a ride.
We looked at each other with our eyes huge, and then we flew off that porch in a split second, and raced into the front seat.
Oh it was nice.
He turned on the radio and tuned it into WBLM, Black Sabbath was playing, and he turned the volume knob all the way up.
He spared no expense rebuilding that car, and even though the radio itself was an original, he added some extra speakers and sub woofers, and Iron Man blared out, and we backed out of the driveway.

We drove down Fern Ave, took a left to head down to the main strip in downtown Old Orchard Beach, and Jenny and I could barely contain our excitement.
We were riding in one of the hottest cars, listening to some great music, and cruising the strip like all the cool high school kids did on the weekends.

I'll never forget that car.
Every time her dad needed to go to the store, he'd poke his head in Jenny's bedroom door and shake the keys.
We would thrown down whatever we were doing and race to the car.

Jenny always hoped that when she got her license, he'd let her drive it, but her dad got in an accident one night, hit by some stupid drunk driver, and the car was totaled.
Her dad had a few minor injuries, luckily, he was ok, but the car was a total loss.
It sustained far too much damage to the body for him to try and repair.

I still see a lot of old Mustangs on the road down here in Florida.
It's the perfect state to drive around in one.
Different years, makes and models.
And I still stop and stare.