I bought my first car, a '57 Chevy 2 door BelAir, from my brother in law.  I was 15 at the time, and had big plans fueled by 8 years of reading magazines like Hot Rod, Car Craft, Popular Hot Rodding, and many others.  I had saved all those magazines, whose dog-eared pages contained the information needed for my new car to go faster and look better.  Never mind that I lacked a driver's license.  Unfortunately for those big plans, I broke a connecting rod in the engine and couldn't afford to rebuild it.  I sold the car before getting my driver's license.

     My second car was this beautiful '66 GTO that I drove to high school.  Gas was so cheap that my friends would chip towards a dollar's worth of premium that would last for an entire evening's worth of cruising The Ave (Wisconsin Avenue in Milwaukee).  Posing with me is my first steady girlfriend Emily.

     The '66 Goat was a very nice looking, clean car, but not really very fast.  Before long the urge for something quicker led to a somewhat ratty green '68 GTO.  Apparently it was sufficiently unattractive to deter any photos, because I can't find any.

     But the magazines were pretty excited about the Camaro Z28 model, so I decided to switch allegiance.  The '68 GTO was sold and I found a very clean '69 Camaro Z28 owned by a guy who genuinely did not seem to realize that he owned a high performance automobile.  The car had very few options, which was considered desirable in those days because options added weight, and weight made you slower.  I enjoyed the car immensely, and never had any trouble with it.  Eventually, marriage motivated its replacement with a series of boring, practical, forgettable cars.