Remember your first car? My daughter was talking about hers yesterday. The one she didn't want at first because it was, well, old. A 1986 Cutlass Supreme, it was white with decorative flecks of rust and a bumper sticker that said, SOMEONE IN TEXAS LOVES ME. She called it The Boat, and moaned about dirving it the first and last six months we owned it. But in between she fell in love. And now she wishes she still had it to drive around campus. Yeah, the same car her great-grandma used to navigate Evansville, Indiana before she stopped driving altogether.
My first heap, erm, ride was a pea green Duster that consumed oil like ants eat sugar. I wouldn't take that sucker back if you plated it with gold. But then, according to my hubby, it didn't have soul.
How about your original wheels? Brimming with so much character it became part of your identity? Or a forgettable piece o' trash? Can't wait to hear the road trip stories!