This is a picture of my dad's 1948 Studebaker convertible. I found it going through a box of old pictures. He still had that car when I was almost old enough to drive, and was it ever showing its age! My mom had even hand-painted the whole thing in yellow - with a paint brush (I remember helping).
I was adamantly opposed to learning to drive with it or being relegated to driving it once I got a license. How embarrassing to drive such an old "clunker"! To my great relief, it died for good a year or so before I was 16. My fears were unfounded (as all fears are - well, they're founded, but on the gossamer wings of thought and time - AH! never mind because it's a whole other posting).
And yet, looking at the picture today and thinking about it in retrospect, all I can think is "WHAT A BEAT CAR!" No wonder my dad couldn't understand my teenage disdain for what he saw as a really hip car.
Teenagers!
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