When I was growing up, my aunt and uncle had a Honey Gold '65 Mustang coupe. They'd occasionally come up to Los Angeles for the weekend from their home in San Diego, and I'd drool over that car. First, it was a 4-speed manual, which was rare on Mustangs even in the late 60s and early '70s. Second, it had been customized by my uncle with a set of aftermarket wheels and dual exhaust.
If we were lucky, my brother and I might get a ride in it during those weekend visits. Between the rumble of the dual glasspack mufflers and the slight whine of the manual transmission, it was about the closest thing we ever got to an exotic. And, one time our uncle "laid rubber" in front of our house on a Sunday morning when they were leaving. (Our portion of the San Fernando Valley was still fairly rural at the time, so lighting up a rear tire was hardly dangerous.)
Eventually, they sold me the car, and I still own it today.
Around the same time, I became aware of the Steve McQueen movie "Bullitt," begging my parents to take me to see it at a theatre whenever it came around, or to stay up late when it was shown on network television. Nothing seemed cooler than McQueen shifting the 4-speed of that Highland Green fastback, with the tires screeching and the 390 V8 barking out a loud exhaust note.
Today, I own a Highland Green '68 Mustang Fastback, with a 4-speed, 390 V8, and proper American Racing wheels.
My boyhood Mustang dreams are fulfilled today.