While trying to think of a Thursday Thirteen list, something called to mind my favorite car from childhood. I decided to share my musings on what made the 1969 Corvette Stingray 427 Convertible so special.
1. Probably my favorite part, that swooping curve of the front fender positively defined sexy to my innocent eyes, and still does today.
2. The low profile reminded me of some stalking predator ready to pounce.
3. Riding in, and later driving (!) my father’s pride and joy, that shiny hood seemed ten miles long.
4. Chrome all over that car sparkled and gleamed like nothing else I’ve seen.
5. Its powerful engine would go from a purr to a roar in a few patters of my heart.
6. The lipstick red paint job never failed to turn heads.
7. Especially riding with the top down, I liked to think some of the admiring looks were for me as I grew into a young lady.
8. Amusingly, those same laid-back cruises with me earned my father more than a few scandalized glares. Sharing more personality traits than distinctive physical resemblance, we always got a kick out of the misunderstanding. I particularly enjoyed the obvious chagrin on some stranger’s faces when we confessed our relationship.
9. The car’s interior hugged its driver and passenger like some kind of spaceship from science fiction.
10. Even the name of the Stingray body style expressed sheer coolness.
11. Its model year, ’69, gave me an illicit thrill once I learned sexual slang. What can I say?
12. The suspension clung to the asphalt tight enough to make me thrill at every incline, dip, and swerve.
13. Despite the various models my father restored, enjoyed, and eventually sold, a slinky ‘Vette from that year stirs up memories other cars just don’t evoke. Things like small-town parades, Friday night car rallies, and crisp morning drives through Amish country.