A True Classic Car Lover - American Classic Cars

I love the American classic cars, and it doesn't much matter what the car is as long as it was built in the USA, I do tend to like muscle cars a bit better then just regular American classics, the classic cars had such a stylish and classy look to them, and they didn't all look the same, the cars today are more plain and drab.

There is nothing like the feeling of driving a true American muscle car, from the moment you fire the engine up, your blood begins to pump, you feel like a gorilla on steroids, like nothing can beat you, or even match you in a power contest, because you car and you are invincible, of course you know that it's not true, but at least you have had the opportunity to have the feeling.

It's the same feeling that you had as a kid when you got your first muscle car, and drove it to the local drive-in for a burger, you had your lady by you, and one mean car that you were driving, it doesn't matter if it was a Mustang, 'Cuda, Camaro, Corvette, or any other muscle car, as long as it was your car.

The second you pull in the the drive-in all the eyeballs are on your new ride, and the guys in the other cars look at you with anxiety wondering what your new ride has under the hood, wondering if it's all factory, or if you have worked it over, and they won't know that until you race them.

All the ladies have gathered around to see who it is in the new muscle car, they are anxious to go for a ride, and your glad to oblige, now that you have had an opportunity to show your new hot rod off, it's off to hang out with the boys on the main drag, a place where you can prove your machine to all of them  cool old cars.

The time has come to have you first chance to race your new car, and you pull up to the light, give the driver next to you the sign, and engines begin to rev, as the clutch is held to the floor, as you anticipate the light turning green, you see it in your mind, you feel the moment approach as you wait, your car wants to obliterate the car next to you.

Your machine is breathing fire, and the light turns green, you let the clutch go, and your car immediately turns side ways, as the tires begin to churn smoke off of the pavement, and the smell of rubber comes up through the air vents in the car, as you hit second gear you car fishtails in the other direction, as you wrestle the wheel to bring it under control.

You quickly slam it in to third gear, and you car grabs traction about half way through third gear, as it get the all needed traction it slams your head and body back in the seat, like a gorilla suddenly reached around for behind you and pulled you in to the seat with all his might, as you engine winds up again, you shift to your last gear.

There you find solace, as you begin to pull away for you competitor, you win the race by a nose length, now it's time to brag about your new muscle car, it's time to shoe it off, and the boys will be back to the main drag next week end, and then you'll see your competitor's answer to you win from last week end.