Confession: I once dated a boy on the merit of the sound of his voice. He was decent enough looking, tall, and an interesting guy, but his voice is what really sold me. He is also one of the boys who I deflowered. Yet another younger man situation. He was a tender 19 to my worldly 23 years of age. He also drove a black 1966 Barracuda, which I didn’t know when I fell for his voice. To say that the sound of a Barracuda engine rumbling is exciting is putting it gently.
Doesn’t it just make your heart skip a beat?
The late 1960’s is an era of muscle cars and hotrods that really speak to me. That is the bulk of my affections for the 60’s. Which will bring me to a confession for tomorrow (see how I am milking two posts out of this!).