On a beautiful Fall day, I got a ride through the Indiana countryside from Zvi Biener. We stopped for gas in a small town, and we spotted a 1967 Chevelle. I asked the owner if I could take pictures. (Permission was granted.) He told me that his first car had been a '67 Chevelle, and that he always regretted having sold it. This car, he had just bought from a man who had a stroke (and who was loath to part with it). After a few minutes, I complimented him on his car, and walked off, my head filled with a nostalgia that was not my own.
He called out at me from a distance; I had missed the best part. He got into his vehicle, and started his engine...and I finally understood the meaning of 'musclecar.'
My best friend had a Chevelle super-sport, though his was a red convertible model. It was fun to drive in, though we didn't go out in it often as the miles per gallon on it seemed frightening even back when gas was regularly close to $1/gallon.
Posted by: Matt | 11/13/2014 at 06:02 AM