Don’t worry this hasn’t become a Craigslisting. Today after dropping 2/3 of my kids at their grade school, I saw it… something that makes my heart long and my mind relive memories of my youth and freedom.
Yep I saw an older Camaro. It was white. Not the classic cherry red that I had at 16. But once my eyes saw it my mind had already given it a paint job and it was just like mine. Oh how that car illustrates a different time of my life. Unattached, naive, untouchable. It also makes me think of exhilaration, freedom and speakers.
My Dad got the Camaro for my Mom. She drove it for a few years as she went on home visits for Parents As Teachers. Then when I turned 15 1/2, I learned how to drive a stick shift instead of a manual, so I would be ready for the Camaro. I was determined to learn how to drive that car. I begged to practice all the time. Luckily living in the country gave me ample practice to drive us to “town” or to the “city”. I loved it! When I turned 16, I got the 1984 Berlinetta Camaro.
It was beyond cool. It was an auto show “super spiff” (as my Dad would say) model. So it had extra bells and whistles including the best sound system. That is where the speakers come into my memory. I would crank it up every time I could and I would SiNg!!! Windows were often down and my long blonde hair would be blown back. It was exhilarating.
The freedom of a set of wheels at 16 is amazing. And I thought I was invincible. I was grounded when on a warm spring day (about a month after getting my license) I was pulled over by a policeman. I got my first ticket on highway 116. (I have only had 4 in 20 years… I think that is pretty good. About every 5 years or so) I even remember asking the very young, handsome officer if I would be getting a ticket. And he replied in a sweet country-style, “Well, yes. Yes ma’am you are.” I wanted to die! I remember the song on the radio that my sister and I had been belting out (Sweet Home Alabama) and everything about that moment froze in time. We didn’t sing anymore that day and the windows of went up.
I was so worried about getting “it” when I got home that I was shaking. This was before the days of having a cell phone, so I had to drive home and figure out something. I was a kid that never got “it”, but I was smart enough to know that I was in for “it”. So much so that I bought a money order on the way home for the amount of the ticket and I even went to the small post office in Trimble and mailed my payment off! Little did I know that was probably the worst thing I could do for our insurance. I just wanted to hide the problem and end it all. I reacted way too fast and I should have stopped for direction from my parents.
Do you ever jump too far when a little help could avert a disaster?
It is SOOO hard not to react fast. I am trying to sit back, pray, and be still. NOT shoot off the hip as much.
But oh the days of that 1984 Red Berlinetta Camaro and me…. utter bliss on a day like this. 
boldlyblessed 