and Words
Summer came and left without a warning
All at once I looked and you were gone
And now you’re looking back at me
Searching for a way that we can be
Like we were before
Now I’m back to what I knew before you
Somehow the city doesn’t look the same
I’d give my life for one more night
Of having you here to hold me tight, oh, please
Take me there again, whoa-whoa
Lyric excerpts from Musixmatch.
Upon graduating high school, I got a new-for-me car, a 1966 Ford Mustang. The car was two years older than I and I named her Lisa. She was painted metallic blue, as have been most of my cars. Lisa had short bucket seats with running ponies; that option was called ‘Pony interior’. Under the hood was a 289 V-8. I loved that car. While this may sound shallow, Lisa contributed to my identity for those years while I drove her.
I attended the University of Miami, which was less than an hour’s drive from my home. Those years in college were certainly great fun. I drove home every weekend and spent many hours buzzing between Coral Gables and Fort Lauderdale. Most times I drove just to get from one place to the next. However, sometimes I just got my keys and drove for the sheer pleasure.
The weather fluctuated between spring and summer, and it was simply joyful to drive. I spent many hours on the various freeways in South Florida. Lisa and I zipped around I-95 and 826 which curved around North Miami. I rode with the windows down, and the wind whipping my hair. Once I got a stereo installed, I played tunes at an absurdly loud volume, though still I could only barely make out the music from the sound of the wind.
The driving culture in South Florida is ‘death before yielding’ and I became acutely attuned to it. Even at freeway speeds I only maintained one car length between myself and the car immediately in front. You may wonder why not slow down just leave more room? …because a car from an adjacent lane will simply jump in. Most of the time that wasn’t an issue, I was the one who was darting between lanes in order to get ahead of the next car. It took years to break those bad habits.
My joyrides were normally focused around two scenarios. The first would be late enough at night, when there was little traffic. The only illumination was from the lights over the freeway and the surrounding buildings, and of course my headlights. During those drives, the air rushed through the windows that would leave a delightfully distinct chill on my skin. The second would be late afternoons into evenings, where I may watch the spectacular colors of the sunset. I could therefore often see the blues turn into pink, orange, or purple with an occasional swirl of clouds, and it slowly darkened over the horizon. There was more traffic, and the drive may be longer, but you couldn’t really complain looking at that magnificent sky. During those drives, the air in the afternoons were more of a warm embrace that welcomed you to stay.
Every time I hear “Endless Summer Nights”, it takes me back to those moments behind the wheel of that car. The perpetually warm weather was reminiscent of an eternal summer; it felt like I drove her one long continuous summer that spanned years. The tone of the song as he melancholically flashes back upon those moments parallels how I feel about those moments.
Of course, there’s also the video for that song, which highlights the reminiscent undertones of the song exceptionally. In that video he drives a very similar classic Mustang, though a convertible in his case. Similarly, I also didn’t have a young woman like the one on the video as my co-pilot on those rides and certainly wouldn’t have dared to drive my car with my eyes covered. Incidentally, the name of that young woman in the video is Blueberry; it’s a fascinating story.
And like the song, there’s a longing to return to those moments… indeed to remember every moment of those endless summer nights.
Truthfully, life with Lisa was an abusive relationship. I spent too much time learning what I could to keeping her running. At different points I replaced so many parts, it was like putting together Frankenstein’s monster.
The radiator had a slow leak. At one point I had dumped some StopLeak in the radiator, and it slowed things down for a while. Occasionally she would overheat, and I needed stay put as I waited for her to cool down. I started to keep plastic jugs of water in the trunk to fill the radiator. Finally, my mom became fed up and sprung for a replacement radiator. The old radiator, for which we put down a deposit, sat in my trunk for months before I returned it for the deposit.
Upon opening my trunk you’d see an array of tools. At first these were merely a collection of wrenches and ratchets. Next, I added a hydraulic jack to more easily elevate my car. Eventually I included jack stands as well. I purchased most of the tools I needed. Occasionally I would borrow a tool like a grease gun or torque wrench. Just thinking about this is giving me a headache
Towards the end I remember staying in the dorms one summer program. I spent a day with the car jacked up in the dorm parking lot while I worked on my car. The universal joint on the drive shaft failed, and I needed to replace it. As other students walked by, they watched as I repaired my car with my legs and the removed drive shaft occupying the adjoining parking spot.
I eventually had to replace her; the constant upkeep was simply overwhelming me. Needing to get to both class and work reliably put an end to that love affair. I wept that day. My subsequent car was a Ford Thunderbird, and it was precisely what I needed, but to this day I still miss Lisa.