...that I had gotten rid of the Zed Drei in exchange for two cars from my younger days: A '67 Coronet and a '79 280ZX. Madcap roadtrip adventures ensued.
It's amazing how vivid the memories of driving those cars were, considering I haven't seen either of them in fifteen or twenty years (and why those particular two out of all the ones I've owned? After all, it's been my 924S that I've pined for the most...)
I woke up, however, glad that all those breakdowns and mechanical problems were safely in my dream.
Also in my dream was an abandoned beach house for some reason. And I got a new seat for my bicycle, but it was covered in cloth and I spent half the dream worrying it would get rained on and be all soaked and ruined...
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I never, ever dream about former vehicles.
That's most likely because I owned a succession of POSs through high school, college, and grad school; most were purchased with the express purpose of lasting six months or less... ;)
Now, my Yamaha XS850 Midnight Special, OTOH...
Was your bike seat decorated as if it were a cake?
The bike seat is a lie?
/got nuthin'
I still miss two cars:
1. 1977 Plymouth Arrow 160
2. 1988 New Yorker Landau
I learned to drive in the first ... if cars could talk!!!
The last was my only luxury car & I loved it! Too bad about CA Smog NAZIS!
Ulises from CA
The Dodge Coronet. Land yacht. It could still be cool, if it had O/D and any of the available V8 engines, not to mention fairly comfortable.
Luggage space surely wouldn't be an issue for your extended roadtrips, either. You might be able to fit your entire wardrobe in the trunk, along with an ample portion of your rifle collection.
And a few bodies, if need be.
I still dream about the Harley.
The Catholic priest in my family's parish in Hawaii (Our Lady of Mt. Carmel) drove a '68 Coronet, in black. Of Belgian descent, Fr. Gabriel was a sport. Used to come to our house for dinner every Friday night, smoke cigarettes and sometimes play pinochle. A golfer, too. I always thought that was a pretty damned cool car for anyone to drive, and it enhanced Fr. Gabriel's cool-quotient considerably.
Pffft, I'm still driving the first car! No, not my first car, the first car!
Shootin' Buddy
I had a 66 Coronet. 383 and a 4 speed. Learned how to rebuild a transmission from that car. I gotta say I liked it enough that if I had a lot of stupid money I'd own one just for old times sake. Never had a dream about it though.
Not much for dreaming about previous cars here, except maybe daydreaming. I would not like to replay what used to be a recurring and very accurate/realistic nightmare about taking one 1984 Thunderbird for a nice long barrel roll down Pellissippi parkway at 125mph.
That said, the Z3/Coronet comparison brought to mind an old tenet; you really haven't pushed a car until the brakes have faded. A bit easier to push a Coronet, I think :)
Tbird was absurdly easy to 'push'. Sauntered @25mph across a main road through a side street's stop sign while madly pumping the pedal... more than once, and I can still smell the strangely sweet odor of boiling DOT3.
Ms. K your dreams are the result of a suppresed desire for more bacon. Or cordite. Or maybe a new seat on your 'sickle.
There I fixed it. I'll bill to the usual address.
Tam, if you keep sharing the contents of your mind like this, aren't you afraid that this blog will attract weird people who read it obsessively, every day?
Owhell, I'll just go look at your yachting picture again.
1968-ish Ford Econoline Van, white of course, with the engine mounted between the passenger and driver, allowing the glycol fog to fill the entire van in mere seconds when the radiator hose develops a leak. Ask me how I know!
Second car was better - a hand-me-down AMC Gremlin from my older sister when she left home for college. It had the Molotov gas tank cover - a rag shoved in the hole - because potheads loved to steal the real cap with the gremlin on it. It had the obligatory rusted through sheetmetal floorboard on the passenger side - A/C in winter, Heat in summer! Its clutch linkage fell apart one day, as a cotter pin rusted into dust. I rooted around in the back, found one of my sister's abandoned bobby pins, and repaired the linkage. It drove with that bobby pin in it for months.
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