“Back in the day” is a rather useless term. Whose day are we talking about, anyway? I’ll bet my “day” was a lot longer ago than your “day.” Or, when talking about my past, ought I be saying “back before the day”?
Anyway, back in MY day, my first car was a ’54 Ford. I was a high school junior and it was 1958. Destined to work my way through college, I was in the process of working my way through high school, thanks to my wheels, a slush (automatic shift) four-door sedan with a cavernous back seat. I installed a glass pack on the muffler system and cruised the front of the Quik Chek to show it off before parking and going in for my bag boy shift.
This was the real American Graffiti and I was Richard Dreyfus. As a bag boy, I made 50 cents an hour (minimum wage at that time) plus tips. Working 40 hours a week, which included time and a half on Sundays, I have no idea how I graduated. But I paid for that car and then some. I worked for my freedom. Gas was about 30 cents a gallon.
My Ford was cream colored with a sky blue top (the one pictured above is as close as I could get). I considered getting a stick shift, which would have been more of a hotrod, but I opted for automatic so that I could always have my right arm free to drape around the shoulders of my lovely skirted companion.
In those days, Miami was a sprawling, flat, indolent city, perfect for cruising. We’d spend each weekend at Miami Beach. After hours parked near the salt water, the first thing I had to do when I got home was wash my car. It was important to maintain it in immaculate condition, the better to impress my peers, especially my female peers. Remember, this was back in the day…