I was driving in to work today looking at the thin layer of snow that fell yesterday blanketing the ground like a fleece throw. I passed a large parking lot adjacent to an empty factory admiring the untouched snow and was taken back to high school.
My first car was a very used 1972, 6 cyclinder, bench seat, lemon yellow rusted Plymouth Duster I called my ruster duster. My dad bought it as an early graduation gift for $300, replaced the brakes and handed over the keys to me on a snowy day in April in the parking lot of my high school in Chicago. I was completely surprised and elated. I expected to get through college with a bike and my 1960 Honda motorcycle of which I never got licenced for now that I think of it.
When my dad drove off I was left smiling in the drivers seat of my first sign of adult responsibility……to which I promply hit the gas of my 6 cyclinder muscle car and for the next several minutes delighted in the donuts and figure 8’s I was making all over the snow covered parking lot.
It’s the little things that count.