Me and My Mustang
Posted on May 13th 2015
The Mustang and I have a special relationship. We are both the same age. My earliest memories include my mother pulling up to my babsitter’s house in the back of a shiny yellow Mustang convertible. How was I to know that it was an instant classic? I was just a kid, at a time when everyone was talking about astronauts and going to the moon. Who knew that the car that Ford had made was going to be so special?
The years went buy, and the luster of the Mustang seemed to fade. In the minds of Americans, it just seemed to be so-so. There was no fanfare through the 70s and the 80s like there was in the 1960s. But then came the Five Point Oh, as in Oh My. Mustang got its mojo back with this model. Suddenly, car enthusiasts made the Mustang a must-have again. It was the “it” car, made famous by rappers like Vanilla Ice in the early 90s. Rolling, in my 5.0 was how the song would go. Most people agreed. Then suddenly, Ford seemed to take all that fame for granted again. The glory faded into something iffy, as if the Mustang was doomed to suffer its mediocre fate.
Maybe it was the price point. Ford had always strived to make the Mustang affordable for that much muscle. It was the every-man’s chick magnet, the mean streets macho car on a budget. But why would being inexpensive cheapen the experience? Maybe it was the fact that Mustang had gotten away from its classic, sharp, clean lines, and melted into something that looked like a mushy Bat Mobile. Perhaps it was the fact that hot rods weren’t “where it’s at” any longer.
For whatever reason, the Mustang continued to languish in the back of people’s minds as it lingered as a fond memory of Americana. With the turn of the Millennium, there were hints and glimpses that the heyday was still hanging around somewhere under the hood. The diehards stuck with the brand, and the faithful continued to buy: Even if side air scoops just didn’t fit with dark green and a tan interior.
Along came 2007, and the new generation. All was right with the world again. The new Mustang rolled off the line with all of its original glory. There was the grill, the round lights, the little horsey, all saying hey, it’s time to play. The GT, which had turned to all but a bust with no balls was all of a sudden back in the saddle. One could rightfully settle for 300 horsepower at that price. It took the Audi A8 to task off the line, if one should be so lucky to meet one at the light.
Instantly, I had to have one. Having been raised on gas-sipping imports, I never had the chance to try out a real street racing car. My parent’s had frowned on such behavior and the hooligans who harbored feelings for fast cars. Being middle-aged and a middle manager, I was far from the influence of my parental units. I strode onto the lot at the Ford dealership and proudly proclaimed my manhood. I got my Mustang, and it was on. I have never looked back.
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