Well, darling, it is also known as corn bunting, but let's not talk about it for a while, okey?
Long Line of Cars - Cake
When I think of cars, I think of my friends in high school and our first cars. We all got our licenses at around the same time, and most of us already had a car lined up and ready to go. That was the end of riding the bus and the beginning of massive parental worry about our whereabouts, possible accidents, speeding tickets, and other terrifying thoughts. But it was the beginning of freedom for us.
Your car becomes an extension of you. Especially when you’re sixteen. It’s part road machine and part accessory. So you fill it with the things that make you YOU. Your favorite music for the tape deck. Bumper stickers. Coke cans. Sports paraphernalia. Spider-Man toys. A friend of mine had this huge boat, a hand-me-down, white Grand Marquis with a vanity plate that read “SPOOOON” in honor of The Tick. Each car had its own name, its own identity, just like the driver.
The best part was when we all got behind the wheel and ended up going to the same place at the same time. Whether it was to school or to a friend’s house or a trip to the Point to watch the sunset, we owned the road. We were a caravan of cars. A friggin’ fleet. The British Royal Navy on wheels. And nothing could stop us. Not cops, not porcupines, not curfews. It was just us, and our cars.