I was going through old photos this morning and stumbled upon a picture I hadn’t seen in quite a long time.  However, every time I see it I get a little misty-eyed remembering the fun I used to have with my 1969 Volkswagen Karmann Ghia.

It wasn’t my first car – I wrecked that one about a year after I got it (the day I paid it off, in fact).  No, the Karmann Ghia was my second car – purchased for $450.  The passenger door didn’t have a latch – it was held shut with a bungee cord wrapped around the passenger seat head rest.  The seatbelts were wrapped around the seat frame (not bolted to the floor).  The body of the car had plenty of dents and rust.  Also, it was a very old, sickly baby blue color.

My dad and I did a lot of work on that car.  Bondo filled in a lot of the gaps and covered the rust-holes that were knocked out.  I didn’t have the money for a real paint job, so I painted it myself…with spray paint.  Yep – black spray paint.

I don’t know how many times I replaced the tailpipe on that thing.  I began to make regular trips to a salvage yard in Topeka that had old Volkswagen parts.  I know very little about cars, but I got to know that car very, very well.

The car was parked at my parents house while I was in Desert Storm.  I’m told it was accidentally backed into and the small amount of damage that was done totaled out the car.  When I returned from the war, my car was gone.  I didn’t even get to tell it goodbye or take it for one last spin with Beach Boy songs blaring out of the tiny speakers.

Whenever I see a Karmann Ghia on the road, I’m like the dog in the movie “Up” that is easily distracted by a squirrel.  My head turns, my ears perk up, and my heart races just a bit.  Linda and I joke that some day I’ll have a Karmann Ghia again.  As the years go by, it seems less and less likely.  Sigh…