In 1965 when I graduated high school my dad FINALLY let me get my driver's license so I could get a car and a job. Of course he went with me because he was going to make the down payment, so I had to really talk him into the car I wanted, as it was a 1963 fire engine red Dodge Dart GT ragtop. It was gorgeous, at least to me. My dad wasn't really crazy about it, because he said it had probably been owned by some teenager who drag raced it all the time, but hey, that was my dad. He did agree after a little whining, and I drove it out of the lot straight to my best friend's house! I was so excited, my first car, and it looked like something I had only dreamed of owning. He had wanted me to get a Metropolitan, because he said they were safer. Ugh. I had such good times in this car, going down the road with the radio blasting out the Beatles, at 100 mph. I drove it to my first job, I still remember heading home on the Interstate late at night, in the dead of a Florida winter (50 degrees), with the top down and the heat on full blast. A few months later I met Larry, he kept my car one day while I was at work and had the nerve to take off the white twin racing stripes I had put on the hood and the trunk. I was crushed! And my dad made it worse by thanking him for doing it!! So my car made it through our first born in 1966 and then I had to part with her when she began having oil problems. But I will always miss my little Dodge Dart.