My dad had a 280ZX with T-Tops back when my parents were dating. He apparently spent way too much money on it, and ended up totaling it. He was pulling out of a parking lot, and some chick sideswiped him. I don’t like to think that it was karma, but then again what sorts of things my dad has done in his past, I cannot say.
This picture is from my high school years, circa 2006. You can see the silhouettes of the fros that both my friend and I were sporting with pride. This was my first car and was handed down to me by my dad, after it had sat in the garage for about 8 years. Not only was the exterior immediately striking as stylish and captivating, but the meters spaced out across the dashboard in front of the driver gave one the experience of being in a spaceship as any slight tap of the pedal would jolt the vehicle forward with surprising force. Small and light, with just a 6-cylinder engine, it beat my friend’s IROC-Z28 Camaro off the line and provided just enough space for me to make out with pretty girls before I could get rush them home by 10 PM. Saying goodbye to this beauty, because I couldn’t expect it to get me to all the way to California for college without any problems, was like saying like giving a high school sweetheart one last kiss, except I couldn’t write to it afterwards.