Kinda like a Jerry Reed song...
While she's livin' like a queen on alimony,
I'm workin' two shifts eatin' baloney,
Askin' myself, "Why didn't you just learn how to cook?!?!"
Why didn't you just learn how to drive a stick?
Good question! I actually knew how to drive a stick but that wasn't what got my Ya-Ya's out. Punishing my equipment was what I was all about back then. My LeMans had a bad case of wheel hop that I never completely eliminated. So did I back off? Yeah, right! I remember stuff like blowing the front U-joint and having the driveline enter the cockpit through the floor on my way to the body shop. (Man that was loud!) Made a nice little tear to drop your roaches through (yeah, we had a pest problem back then).
I actually grew up in an awesome period where the late 60s muscle cars were around 10 years old and cheap. I paid $800 for my Lemans, $800 for a '69 Chevelle SS (minus the 396) and $800 for my '66 VW Baja (see a theme here?) I had no respect for the cars that these would become in a few short years and I'll bet my high school alone destroyed a few million dollars in future collectors value.
How many of you bought junkyard tires and poured bleach on the road in front of them to make the most acrid smoke possible? I bet someone did...