the allure of autos

I have often pondered why I take notice of the many makes and models of the auto industry as I travel the highways and city streets.  I strain to read the backs vehicles as they zip by..wondering why this is of importance to me.  Then I think about my upbringing and the fleet of vehicles (if you could call them that) that entered our families lives throughout history.  And then it makes sense to me. 
See, we looked for cars that had a working motor, a transmission that allowed you to back up and go forward, and I think that might be it. Our car history began with the infamous VW beetle..circa 1960's I believe.  Which wasn't too bad in 1972.  We travelled everywhere in that little car...all 6 of us,  and of course, the cat.  We took our annual pilgrimage to the Outer banks-bags tied to the roof, in the front trunk, parents in the fron seat, Chris and I in the back seat, and the twins in the 'well' all the way in the back. Cat was sandwiched between us. We stopped for gas, or perhaps to allow me to throw up (normal anytime we travelled) and we disbursed as if we belonged in the center ring of Ringling Brothers.
Once the bug died a slow death, we moved into the 1950's..with "Moby Dick", a ginormous 1958 Plymouth with a push button transmission and no floor. Well some floor-had to be careful where you put your feet. Poor thing needed alot of TLC-electric blankets at night, hour long warm ups before backing out the the driveway. 
Our next couple of purchases (or perhaps freebies) were station wagons..not even close to the decade we lived in. Want to mortify your 13 year old? Drive up Main Street of Annapolis as smoke billows out of the car and tell your daughter to hang her head out the window to get fresh air. And lets not forget the Chevy that had no power steering...that required at least 2 drivers just to get out of your parking space.
But amongst this colorful fleet was a moment in history I always remembered...my mother car sat for someone who owned a Triumph Spitfire.  What a sweet set of wheels that was!  And even though I was never old enough to drive it (although I do have some memories of being in the drivers seat), I swore to God that when I was a big girl, a sports car would be in my driveway.  One I OWNED.  A car that would bring me great joy and no embarrassment.
And yes, that sweet ride would be mine..we call her Zelda.  And even though I am a decade behind the times, time stands still for 2 seaters...simply doesn't matter. Especially on the open road.