JUST ABOUT THIS COLOR

My best man at my wedding, Russ had one of these. Maybe I better back up.

His was real. The 1964 and 1/2 Mustang. His was a three speed. It was about the color of this print.

The Summer before our Junior year of high school, he talked his parents into letting him go work in the pea factory in Rochelle, Illinois, about 3 hours north of our hometown. I couldn't talk my parents into it, so I mowed yards yet another Summer. You see, I wasn't sixteen yet and in those days with all us Boomer kids, you had to be 16 to be able to work. (So I probably couldn't have gone to Rochelle anyway(s), but parents have always served as a great outlet for assessing blame.) In fact, I used to tell our kids that if somebody wanted them to do something they didn't want to do, to fall back on the "my parents won't let me." I don't know if either ever used it, but I suspect they did.

When Russ returned from his pea factory job, just in time for football practices, he stopped by my house. In his new car. Which he had bought with his Summer job. Keep in mind that I had just finished Driver's Ed, with Mr. Lee that Summer and wouldn't get my license for practically another month. All because he had a February birthday and understanding parents. Not me, or so it seemed.

I was at his house the night before he left. He was packing his clothes and the world awaited him. All I had was Mrs Heidler's, Mrs. Fitzgerald's, my Aunt Bertha's, and a few other lawns. Also included was our own for which I didn't get paid.

Back to Russ. When he pulled up to my house in that car, I was stunned. But also he had a full beard. Also he was smoking a pipe. Man, where had my buddy gone? I was sure he had all kinds of stories, too. He was more like my dad than my best friend now. And I don't mean this to sound like The Wonder Years, but I hadn't even had my first pimple yet.

What a car! It's still one of my favorites. And it represented so much more to the fifteen year old boy. I was kinda like the kid in the picture. Russ had passed me by.