Your chance to tell us your classic stories and have your say.
Looping back and tapping into the memories and nostalgia, particularly first cars and what they mean to us, is a huge part of why we love classics. For me, it is one classic in particular.
It was early 1989, and I hadn’t quite passed my driving test. In my brother’s car, all but abandoned for university and so handed down, I was doing illegal laps of the surrounding villages in, what to me, was an incredibly cool two-door cherry red Chrysler Avenger – my ticket to freedom…
All I needed was the girl. Tracy was smart and pretty. She had a cute smile and her eyes intrigued me. She would laugh at my anecdotes, and I’d happily take her ribbing me about the state of my ripped jeans.
One afternoon we were parked up in the Avenger in an unfrequented gateway overlooking the countryside enjoying the essence of spring as the sun glinted its way through the trees.
It was only when I let her eject The Wonder Stuff’s The Eight Legged Groove Machine to play her own mix tape featuring the Cure that I realised how much I fancied her.
She used my jacket as a cushion and laid her legs out across mine, telling me all about studying for her exams. I knew I was in love with her. I looked at her for a moment or two before we kissed. Later, holding out the Avenger’s broken choke with a clothes peg, I started the engine.
Ever since then I’ve had a soft spot for The Cure, and over the years whenever I’ve seen a picture of a Chrysler Avenger I’ve felt a twinge of nostalgia for that time and that place. So, the blue one (pictured top) – it’s mine now. I bought it a few weeks ago.
ABOVE Jason’s latest Avenger. BELOW No L-plates, 1989.