Beauty is a matter of subjectivity. And often times some of what people consider to be the worst, end up being the most valuable. My first car, which I still have in excellent condition tucked away in a garage, is listed number 9 on the list. Now the image below is not my car, but it is the closest I could find to it. The differences are mine is a T-top convertible, and it is yellow. It is a 1977 Mustang.
Ugly? You decide. I once sold this car, but became so miserable that the buyer (a car collector) agreed to allow me to buy it back before the title was officially signed over. I thank God for his allowing me to do this. I had a nightmare about this event a few nights ago where I didn't get the car back. I will admit, in the base form of this era of Mustang, there was a bit to be desired. But mine was a custom made car done at the Ford factory in 1977. There were two made---one red and one yellow. The engine was modified for drag racing---again done at Ford in 1977. It has spoilers on the front and back and louvers over the rear hatchback window. A set of counterbalances rest in the back of the car to offset the weight of the modified engine. My Mustang currently has 65,000 miles on it, and it is taken out on the road once a year. The reason? I can't take the risk of something happening to it. It was one of two of its kind made by Ford, and the red one was destroyed in a racing accident years ago. It was by sheer luck that my parents bought me this car. It came into a dealer in 1980 when it was three years old, and the word had gotten out that this car was coming in, and a frenzy broke out in the dealership to buy the car. My parents, before even looking at the car up close, handed a salesman in the showroom a hundred dollars to hold the car. Then they bought it. The car will go slightly over 200 mph. It raced in several drag races and was fortunately not wrecked. I can still remember how nervous I was taking my driving test in that car. Just barely touching the accelerator with the slightest pressure sends it nearly peeling out. The guy giving me the test said he knew the car very well, and he only deducted a point or two for how slowly I pulled away from stop signs---I was afraid the car would get away from me. I have two sons, and I forbid them ever getting behind the wheel of this car for fear of their safety. Anyway, just reminiscing a bit here.
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"My journey has just begun."