Car! I meant car all along.
My first and only muscle car of that by-gone era.
A man will remember his favorite car better then his first girl friend long after both are gone.
A 1967 Chevy Camaro SS (ss stood for super sport, rs stood for rally sport)
I bought it used. I spent every dime I had on it, restoring, add ons, learning. I am still talking about the car!
I could sit down and right down everything about it, an expensive list at the time and still expensive today.
Cars of today are beyond my comprehension, but back then I would work on the carburetor on the kitchen table, rebuilding it, run open headers around the neighborhood just to wake people up!
And then one day, it was gone. Someone had stolen it, stripped it and then burned it. Later on I got a call from the police pound.
It was there.
I stopped in to look. It was as bad as I thought. A blackened carcass was all that remained. I sat down on it and cried. All my hopes and dreams were gone.
After awhile, I got up and walked away, not looking back. The good times are forever, the bad times covered over.
A guy always thinks of a car as a woman. Memories.
Good memories only.
But I guess the hurt never went away.