My Dream Car

{Prompt: What car did you dream of having one day?}

Growing up in the 60s and 70s, the roads were filled with station wagons, VW bugs, muscle cars, and Cadillacs.  We had a Plymouth Barracuda when we were young. It was jet black, had chrome barracuda logos on both sides, a sizable sloping rear windshield and a sporty tail — its distinguishing feature.

A 1969 Barracuda with the “fastback” roofline.

It was one of the first cars to have back seats that could lay flat with an opening to access the trunk space. If you were small and you put down the back seats — on a trip to Virginia, for example — you could lie flat and fall asleep. I don’t think we ever really did that, but I think we might have pulled over once, on the side of a dark country road, and put down the seats, to lie down and look up at the stars through the rear windshield.

Mike and I in front of the barracuda - circa 1970.

The barracuda had manual windows and manual door locks, which were just fun to play with. But you could also get fresh air by opening these little triangular windows/vents that were right behind the windshield and next to the side mirrors. I would ride shotgun whenever I could just to play with these swiveling vents. I don’t think the car had AC. I don’t think we could afford it.

Iconic side mirror and window vent of a Barracuda

Once I rode in the back of a big, expensive sedan, when I was in middle school. It was some other parent’s car — maybe a Cadillac, like the Cadillac Seville. All I know is that when we got inside — three or four of us in the rear leather seats, it made so little road noise, and had such an amazing shock-absorbing system, that it felt like riding in an airplane… at least I imagined that’s what it felt like.

I think my dream car at that time would have been anything with a hood ornament.  Rolls Royce was the gold standard, but a Mercedes was much more likely to be seen in the real world.  I think my favorite, though — my favorite car with a hood ornament — was probably a Jaguar.  There was nothing quite like a leaping jungle cat made of shiny, silvery chrome to inspire my adolescent imagination.

My favorite hood ornament.

I also held out hope, for many years, of owning a Jeep — ideally, an army-issue Jeep, but I would have settled for a Wrangler. Of course, I didn’t know what notorious gas guzzlers they were, and I had no concerns about their service record when ownership was just a pipe dream.

When the time came when I was actually old enough to drive, and I had enough money (from working at Arby’s or the Pullen Park pool) to pay for gas and repairs, my mother bought me a small, used, Honda Civic. Not nearly as sporty as a Civic today, but this Honda Civic — my first car — had the great advantage of being a beautiful shade of lemon yellow.

My first car - a yellow Honda Civic.

Back then, the Iran Contra hostage crisis and the gasoline shortage of 1977 were affecting gasoline prices, and fuel efficiency was the deciding factor in many a purchase. The American market was seeing an influx of far more fuel efficient cars from Japan, including the one that I got.

I’d still love to have a Jeep or a Land Rover; a Jaguar or a Mercedes, but these days I find myself dreaming about vintage cars from the ’40s or ’50s. Maybe something that suits my age.

Or maybe I should get a souped-up 1969 Plymouth Barracuda… this time with air-conditioning.

Or maybe I’ll just keep dreaming, while I drive around in my Subaru Outback — the station wagon of the 21st century.