Theresa and I went to what might be the perfect old car show last Saturday. In Vista at the Peppertree Drive In, over 585 cars showed up and jammed the streets and surrounding parking lots. Restricted to nothing newer than a 1972, my year of high school graduation, this made it perfect for my trip down memory lane, as anything newer has much different memories than anything older. You tend to have hallmarks in your life, and one is getting your license-June of 1971 for me. And being able to drive made me look at cars in a different light-unfortunately.
All my dreams of SS396 Chevelles, and Boss Mustangs faded to black as the stone cold reality of a 1966 Rambler Classic sedan was my first set of wheels. And things like filling the tank took on a new meaning. We never thought gas would ever go over 30 cents/gallon, and when we got to 1/4 tank, drove in and told the attendant two dollars worth. Or in the case of many of our first cars, fill the oil, and check the gas. But this car show was different than many I attend, and that made the memories flow. Judging based on the car, and the emotions it raised, not the restoration, or how much money you spent to make it perfect. Talking with owners, and listening to their stories, and reminding Theresa in 15 years we can take her Mustang, as it will be 25 years old then. That is if we ever stop riding. But it is the unrestored, but daily driven, or often driven cars I am attracted to. The ones with wear on the seats, and thin paint from years of waxing. The ones that tell a story of their lives, and places they've been and who they were with. These are the ones that I stop and look at.
I found myself stopping and looking at the AMX line-almost a dozen of them-and a 1971 with a 360, much like my friend Barry Adams' 1972 with a 401. I spent time looking at the 1950 Buick Super, the same color as my Special sedan-the one Debbie Gallagher wanted to go to the drive in in, so we could neck. Just so she could see what it was like for her parents in the 50's. Ah, some romances never die. Stopping to laugh at the Pinto, with a sign that read FLAMMABLE in front of it, reminded me of the car that replaced the Rambler, a 1971 Pinto. And my first job as an assistant service manager and the recall for the fuel tank repair that kept them from exploding.
Even stopping and explaining how the 55-56-57 Chevies were different, yet so similar to Theresa, who commented she knew because she had been going to car shows with me for 30 years. My favorite, the 56, but I was always enamored by the dash on the 55's, the ones with the Chevy bowtie emblems cut out of the metal. I was too young to get one new, and too broke to get one when I was older. Which only makes some dreams seem farther away as you get closer.
But I found myself in thought as I considered where I was when these cars were new, and where I am now. And how far both cars and I have come. For over 70% of my life I have been a Christian, and I thought of how that influenced my decisions. And how those decisions influenced my life. From my first car when moving to Albuquerque, a Rabbit that was totaled, and replaced with a 1973 El Camino, and then replaced by a 1972 MG Midget, I could follow my story of my walk in Christ. When I traded my El Camino for the MG, and later a friend of Eric Villanueva bought it, it had a rattle. So I put a Christian magazine between the spare and jack to stop the rattle. Which Eric thought was cool, because his friend became a Christian. I never told him it was not a witness tool, the noise was making me crazy-but God had a better idea. And Eric used to tell anyone who would listen the story.
Watching TV one night with Theresa, and Crime stoppers re-enacted a crime-on the trunk of our 1967 Sedan De Ville! She used to run over curbs while driving it-her last car being a VW Bug. And it always got 6 miles per gallon, no matter how you drove it-so we drove it fast, a Trans Am killer, when they gave up all their horsepower in lieu of graphics in the late 70's. I remember our next MG, I bought a 1980 B model and surprised Theresa when I picked her up at the hospital after a miscarriage. And how Christopher used to sit in his car seat with the top down when he was three years old. How cool was that? All memories courtesy of a car show.
And I thought of two friends who went home to the Lord too soon for me-Brett and his little Honda, which his pastor and friends set up on a curb at his wedding, so they couldn't get to the motel, and Terry Garcia and his 1978 Saab. Both guys who liked road trips, and loved Jesus. Brothers who were there for me when I needed them. And then my memories took me back to the Tuesday night Bible studies and how my life was centered around Jesus. And then realized how blessed I have been for the past 35 years. Remembering all the times with brothers and sisters in the Lord-just from looking at some old cars.
So next time I get blurry eyed while looking inside an old car, use caution-and courtesy, for I am going back and remembering special times. Times spent with Jesus, and the friends I shared them with. Just one of the things I remember during communion when He says do this in remembrance of me.
And don't let the religious people take anything away from you for doing that-for any time spent with Jesus is the best time. For I remember Him even without taking communion, as He is always part of my life, riding or driving. Just remember-don't spill anything on the seats, and make sure the oil and gas are full. And take off into the sunset with new memories to come-and enjoy the ones in the past. A scrapbook from Jesus- a journey not found in the Twilight Zone.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogpsot.com