Life Keeps Hopping Along

It's a 1981 Volkswagen Rabbit. It is "Forest Green Metallic". It has 165,000 miles on it, which is actually not bad for this type of car. This is my daughter and son-in-law's "new" car. It also gets over 50 miles to the gallon, running on diesel or bio-diesel. They got a great deal on it and favorite son-in-law even got the seller to throw in a banjo he was putting in his moving sale. A rabbit and a banjo...there's got to be a joke there somewhere!

Notice the lovely terracotta interior, with the faded to purple armrests....

What makes this whole purchase ring with even greater space-time continuum oddness is that this car was manufactured the year I got my driver's license. Which didn't even seem that astounding until they said, "yeah, it's in good shape for a car that's 27 years old." 27 years old?

I still vaguely remember going to get my license. I believe my boyfriend at the time, Eddie Edwards (first name just Eddie, not Edward), drove me to the Secretary of State. He had a Volkswagen Beetle, sky blue, that had holes in the floorboard and no heat. I don't remember what car I took the test in--not his, that's for sure!
I do know my dad pretty quickly found my first car for me, an '83 Ford Escort hatchback, with a manual transmission. I found out that learning to drive a stick was a great skill to have, and even an impressive skill to some guys. I don't remember anything about the test, except the part where you had to park on a hill and turn the tire into the curb so that it wouldn't roll if the brakes failed (do they even do that any more?). I do remember that I passed it the first try, and that I experienced that feeling of exhilaration that comes from stepping up to a new level of freedom, along with the gravity of being entrusted with a new level of responsibility. It was a pretty exciting time, full of wondering where life would end up taking me.

27 years old? They just don't make them like they used to.