More years than I would like to admit ago, I accepted a promotion at the company where I had been working. I needed to get a car and my new boss gave me a “signing bonus” that I could use to pay for a car. I took this money and made one of the biggest mistakes I have ever made. Instead of buying a practical car, that would get me to and from work reliably, I used the money to buy a 1967 Chevy Camaro. My boss was decent enough to not say anything about my poor decision making skills, but he would have been justified.
In what was perhaps the first of many signs that I ignored, after driving it home from Terre Haute, I pulled into the apartment parking lot, the battery shifted and hit the fender wall and caught fire. I was able to drive it back and forth to work for some time and even did it during the winter months, although it didn’t handle very well in the snow.
Little problems cropped up and before too long, the Camaro was parked in the garage. We moved, and the Camaro was towed to the new place, occupying a valuable spot in the new garage. Years passed and nothing happened. Actually, things happened. The trunk filled with junk, as it was a good place for storage. The interior was removed from the car and set on the roof. A squirrel or two took up residence over the winter. The worst thing that happened was that the car sat there day after day, year after year; a constant reminder to my wife, of my selfishness.
It was pretty obvious that something needed to happen…
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