I suppose that everyone (men & boys anyhow) dream of some vehicle they have always really really wanted. I wanted two: the second was a brand new Jeep. I wanted the Jeep since I was small when Stan Wilson, the milk man, would give me rides in his old WWII era military Jeep. That was just too cool!

The bright & shining number one has always been a 1962 silver Corvette with a fully blown 327 with a 3/4 roller cam & Edelbrock headers; followed by a 4-speed (Hurst shifter) and a positrac rear. Metallic silver with a black soft top. O yeah…six tail lights also.

I suppose the longer you want something you either forget it or it just gets into one of those obsessive things. My ‘Vette dream has never become obsessive, but it has always remained as real as the first one I ever laid my eyes upon.

I have my new Jeep or it was new when I bought it which is the same thing. It is the end of a line of used Jeeps. And I still enjoy driving the thing almost as much as I did riding with Stan long ago.

Never got that ‘Vette; not used or otherwise. This unrequited ride of mine could possible be unattainable even if I could get that 327 powered little silver slice of heavenly cloud. Long time dreams sometimes make the real thing pale in comparison. My experience with the Jeep belies that notion however.

Today at Idabel I pulled-up behind a brand new bright yellow Corvette with 4 taillights & 4 tailpipes. A thing of great beauty. I followed it about a mile out of town.

As the little yellow beauty turned off the highway I once again felt the bitter-sweet sense of loss I always experience when in contact with a live Corvette. And still, when I see a picture of a ’62 Vette, I get that little jump of excitement, a flush in the cheeks and a rush of the ol’ dream. When I actually come into physical presence with one there is a huge shot of adrenaline followed by a weakness in the knees and a a strange knot in my chest.

Cheri says I couldn’t get in & out of one now. I can’t buy that justification of forgetting the old dream. I know I would manage if I had to roll into & out of it.

But age is often accompanied by an extremely malevolent actuality: At some point you start to realize the most cherished fantasy might, perhaps, not be realized. But, even in the presence of such merciless reality I must hold tight to my little fairy-tale of vehicular paradise.

I hope, at the end of all, that my last thoughts are of Cheri & I in much younger days riding down an old 2 lane road in our bright shiny ’62 corvette waving, hollering, laughing with the folks we pass. Wont that be sweet??


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