If all goes according to plan, I’ll be a dad in the next year or so. So it’s time to grow up, and give up the convertible.
My first was a 1977 Mercedes SL 450, purchased in 1997 with less than 100k on the odometer. The ragtop canvas had been replaced the previous year, something I knew the salesman wasn’t BSing me about: It wasn’t at all faded and I needed to put forth Herculean effort to get the damn thing to lock down for the first few months. I loved that car. I’d still be driving that car today, if I hadn’t wrecked it.
The accident was in 2001, and I wasn’t ready to quit convertibles just yet. I knew (but Melissa didn’t), that we’d be getting married before long