Crimson & Clover

The Car

"I never knew driving could be this much fun," I screamed through the noise of the wind whistling past us. That's the one thing about a convertible on the highway. You have to yell to be heard. "Where should we go?" I asked Tom.

Tom answered with lighting swiftness. "Isn't Julie working at that new Holiday Inn near UCLA?" he said, knowing full well that's where she worked.

"I think that's the one," I replied, not wanting to shatter his I'm gonna play it cool facade.

"Let's go show her your new set of wheels!"

Julie was a mutual friend of ours who Tom had a thing for. Every chance he had Tom went out with Julie, as friends. They would stay up to all hours of the night, talking. I would always tell him, "Tom, she thinks you're a chick! Stop being her friend and start being a guy." Tom never got it.

Julie had just been hired as an assistant manager at the Holiday Inn, one of their new concept round hotels with a restaurant on the top floor overlooking the city. It just opened and everybody was talking about it.

So we drove along the freeway, headed for the Holiday Inn, the two of us, fresh off a victory in life for me, Adam Baker. The air smelled better today as the wind blew over the top of our heads. Even the palm trees that lined the highway seemed to be sensing that today was a special day as they leaned ever so slightly giving us a well deserved salute, and then Kodachrome by Simon and Garfunkle began to play on the radio. The two of us started to sing along like two guys having the time of their lives as we tapped our hands on the dashboard;

When I think back on all the crap I learned in high school
It's a wonder I can think at all
And though my lack of education hasn't hurt me none
I can read the writing on the wall
Kodachrome

Tom was what you might call tone deaf. He really couldn't sing a lick but that never stopped him when the music was loud enough, and lucky for all of us on the freeway, this Thunderbird's radio could play loud, very loud.

We exited the highway and drove down to the hotel, both of us feeling as if the world no longer had any roadblocks in our way. A nice drive and great music, what could possibly be better? If only I could figure out how to bring my record player into the car, I would be set.

As I drove up through the front gates everybody was staring at me. I was important. People had respect for a man driving this machine. I tried to look away, play it cool and all, but who was I kidding. I was driving a Ford Thunderbird convertible!

"Where should we park?" I asked Tom.

"Leave it for the valet."

"Are you kidding me?" I asked him. "Nobody is driving this thing but me."