Little Red Corvette

I know, I know - this is a drawing of a butterfly.  But this drawing set the way-back machine in my head going.

Somehow I guess the color red reminded me of the song Little Red Corvette (Prince). I used to think that my life would be so much better when I got a red Corvette.  I fell in love with the car when I was visiting my cousins Debbie and Darlene in Vancouver, BC. I think I might have been 16 years old at the time. 

Debbie's boyfriend, at the time, pulled up to her house in a glistening bumble bee yellow Corvette. I think I fell in love right then and there.  That was the car for me.  The lines, the engine, the look of it all was a bit too much for a 16 year old to handle.  

I lived with this obsession for years. I'd stare longingly at Corvettes whizzing road and wished I was in every one I saw. It was really was pathetic.  

Finally, after years of ogling and mulling over what it would be like to own my very own, I took the plunge.  I looked all over the place to find just the right one. Then, at long last, I found one that was in my price range.  It was in pristine condition.  It was a Red Corvette!  When they asked if I wanted to take a test drive and I said "Oh! Yes! Please!".  I think there may have even been some drool sneaking out the corner of my mouth.  It was like the first time I drove a car all over again - a mixture of apprehension and childish anticipation. 

When I was snugged into the driver's seat and my seat belt was clipped low and tight around my waist - as they say on the airlines, I was Rocket Man, I was Mario Andretti, I was in the car of my dreams! 

Pulling on to the road, I could hear the rumble and feel the power under the hood. I could feel my back pressing into the seat. I drove around for about 1/2 hour.  I went up this street and down another.  I went on the freeway and I practiced parking. I did left turns, right turns and u-turns. I went fast and I went slow. I felt fast even when I wasn't moving. 

The funny thing is, in the end, that little test drive satisfied my curiosity. I now knew what it was like to drive a Corvette and although it lived up to my dreams in many many ways, I realized it just wasn't the car for me. The way the seat is situated, I felt like I was sitting on the road. The way I was leaned back I felt I was actually driving in a coffin.  I heard of somebody who loved his Corvette so much he was buried in it. Now that's fanaticism. 

"On this day in 1994, the ashes of 71-year-old George Swanson are buried (according to Swanson’s request) in the driver’s seat of his 1984 white Corvette in Hempfield County, Pennsylvania.", This Day in History, May 25, 1994 

For me, though, I sill like looking at Corvettes.  To me they're really attractive.  I even went to the Corvette Museum in Bowling Green Kentucky a couple of summers ago.  I saw where the big sink hole was. I saw all the Corvette Models.  I even registered to try to win a free one.  (I wouldn't turn it down).  But I'm over my obsession. 

It's funny, sometimes how you think something is going to make you happy.  You think it might be the answer to all your problems. It will make you feel good about your self finally.  I've kinda discovered it's best to feel good about yourself first, then all the other things will come. 

Oh, by the way, The butterfly above was really fun to draw.  I might do some more in that style in my quest to create esthetically pleasing images.  

I wish you well. 

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