After 13 years . . .
. . . I sold it.
From the time I first saw a Corvette in 1957 at the drag races in Alton, IL, I wanted one. But, I could never afford it. Then came college and family. With five of us, there was no way it was practical.
One day in 1997, I was shopping for a small pickup to replace the one that just went off lease. This red car was sitting on the lot with a sad look, saying "take me home." That's a reasonable alternative to a pickup, says I, so home it came.
That same summer, Mrs. B and I took it on a road trip to New Orleans, and I was in hog heaven (link added so Ian doesn't have to look it up.)
Many Corvette drivers park their cars in a garage, and never drive them unless the sun is shining.
I may be picky on the cars I own, but I drive them. I drove this one for 120,000 miles.
That's what they're for, isn't it?
I thought I'd miss it, but I don't. Probably because it's turned on me, the ungrateful wench. I washed it, polished it, replaced worn parts and took care of it. So what do I get in return? Left stranded on the road twice in three months, that's what - and a significant dent in my purse to boot.
So, now it's gone. I hope someone else has a chance to enjoy it. Really.