My dad has a '57 Chevy that is literally the love of his life. I swear that he sneaks out to his garage and sleeps in the thing. Of course, he denies it. It is beautiful though. He's completely restored it inside and out. For the color, he chose the same blue that was popular in that year. This car looks like something straight out of a 1950s movie. On the rare occasion that he takes it for a drive, everyone stops to look. He's even had a few offers on the car. While he'd never sell it, I can't believe how much people would pay for a classic car in mint condition.
He even purchased a special insurance policy for it. He saves a little money because he hardly ever drives it on the road, plus he gets to state the value that they have to pay for the car if it's ever considered a total loss. Hopefully that never happens because he'd probably move into the junkyard to be close to his baby. Did I tell you that he even named this car? For some reason, he named it Bertha. Maybe, that was some ultra-sexy name from back in his day, but Bertha doesn't sound too great to me. That's OK. I've given up on trying to understand most of it.
He keeps telling me that I'll understand one day. According to him, when I get old, everything from my youth will have a special appeal. For some reason, I can't see myself babying a 1995 Toyota in the same way that he treats this '57 Chevy. Of course, when I tell him this, he says that it's because modern cars just don't have the same style as the old ones. I think I even have to agree with him on this one.
He even purchased a special insurance policy for it. He saves a little money because he hardly ever drives it on the road, plus he gets to state the value that they have to pay for the car if it's ever considered a total loss. Hopefully that never happens because he'd probably move into the junkyard to be close to his baby. Did I tell you that he even named this car? For some reason, he named it Bertha. Maybe, that was some ultra-sexy name from back in his day, but Bertha doesn't sound too great to me. That's OK. I've given up on trying to understand most of it.
He keeps telling me that I'll understand one day. According to him, when I get old, everything from my youth will have a special appeal. For some reason, I can't see myself babying a 1995 Toyota in the same way that he treats this '57 Chevy. Of course, when I tell him this, he says that it's because modern cars just don't have the same style as the old ones. I think I even have to agree with him on this one.
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