The Victors

Kidding of course. The Mustang stuff is awesome. I'm about as far as you can get from being a gear head, but I love me some Mustangs. These are the kind of great stories that makes this place worth visiting multiple times a day.

Regarding the Pinto, I'll repeat a story I've told before.

I received my driver's license on my 16th birthday. Of course, I asked dad if I could take his '74 T-Bird out for the night. Much to mom's chagrin (she always feared death and disaster was just around the corner for each of her children), dad happily gave me his keys.

I took off in the beautiful, silver T-Bird with black leather seats feeling bad-ass. It looked and handled like a yacht. Not 5 minutes later I approached a stop sign, stopped and looked to my right. There were three hotties I knew from high school. I was friendly with them, but they were way out of my league. Still, it was fun to wave for a couple of seconds. Smash!

Another guy I knew from high school, was turning his Pinto left onto my street while also waving at the hotties. He hit me damn near dead center. Getting out of my car, I was sure my driving days were as over as the Pinto's, which had folded like an accordion into my front bumper. As he pulled the Pinto back, the damage report for the T-Bird consisted of a 1/4 inch tear in the rubber part of the crash absorbent bumper.

Returning back home, Mom was ready to ground me for life. Dad cracked up, said I'd handled things just fine and sent me back out in the T-Bird for the night. Love and miss ya, Mom, but Dad, that was pure class.