Beetle Mania
My first car was a Volkswagen Superbeetle. It was an orange-red with a black interior and my mother managed to scrape up the money to buy it for me before I turned 16. I learned how to drive in that car. Mom's boyfriend taught me. Somehow he had the patience to lunge around town as I tried to syncronize the clutch and the changing of gears. He even had enough courage to take me to the hilly section of east Enid where we would glide halfway down the block going backward before I managed to get the car in gear.

I turned 16 early in my sophmore year and drove myself everywhere in that little red car. The radio barely picked up anything, so I usually sang everywhere I went. I loved rolling down the windows and experiencing pure freedom. I drove to Oklahoma City, Ponca City and Norman in that car all by myself (sorry mom).

I had my first accident in my beetle. I had been licensed to drive for exactly one month when I rear-ended a friend's car at a stop sign. It was a minor accident. If he hadn't been there, I would have stopped in about 3 more feet. I simply misjudged the braking distance I would need. His car didn't even have a scratch, but mine had a large dent right in the middle of the big rounded hood. After that accident, I never carried anything of value in the trunk (which is under the front hood). I always carried my French horn in the back seat. My horn was my life.

Of course, the car broke down often. I quickly learned that I could usually get it started if I ran along side the car to get it going before trying to start the car. As it rolled, I would jump in and turn the key and I was off! I'm sure it is the dream of every parent to have their little girl "jump starting" her car out on the main street of town!! (I didn't tell them about it.) (Till now.) (But I think my mom knew, because she sold the car.)

When I was in highschool I played French horn in the Phillips University/Enid Symphony. My highschool band director and assistant director were also in the symphony. One evening, the conducter sent the brass and percussion sections home early so the winds and strings could work on a special piece (French horns are considered winds rather than brass in a symphony orchestra). When I left rehearsal that night, I found that my band directors and some other brass players had pushed my beetle out of its parking place and lifted it up in front of the stage door, so that every musician had to shimmy around it to get out of the building! It was hilarious, and I was honored that they would find me worthy of such a trick!

The summer after my sophmore year I dated Mark, who drove a blue Volkswagen bug. We were quite a pair. His car broke down all the time too, but I was never fazed. We would both jump out together and push, then jump in again and laugh. He told me years later that he had been embarrassed to drive that car, but I turned it all around for him because I didn't care about his car. Are you kidding? I loved that car!

I'd love to go riding around in a bug again and re-live the memories.