Well, Bobert, I still feel pretty sentimental about my 52 MG TD.

It's not true that we all love our first cars. My first car was a humongous V8 Hudson my dad fobbed off on me. I could barely see over the dash and it had such a wide turning radius. cul de sacs were a disaster. God, I hated that car. I never got the "elegance" of stepping DOWN into it...what was that all about, anyway? So there was more than a little relief mixed in with all the love I felt for my MG. It was the bright metallic blue of a butterfly wing, had a moveable windshild which could be laid flat for the full effect of wind in the hair, and was more fun to drive than was legal. Driving along the coast on a summer's night, radio blasting 50's rhythm and blues...for my money that's what's in the dictionary under "youth."

The only other car I ever coveted was a friend's British racing green Morgan, with a leather strap that held down the hood. Very cool. But, like the MG, it was in the garage more than on the road, but definitely worth the trouble.