I was 12 years old when my uncle took me to a local Corvette show. I wasn't really into cars at that age, let alone Corvettes. Heck, I didn't know what a Corvette really was. It was a very hot and muggy overcast day with not a breeze in the air to help you cool off. After spending a couple of hours walking up and down every single row of cars (every year from 1953 to present was on display), I had become bored, whiney and distracted like any 12 year would. I just wanted to go home. All of that suddenly changed as we were finally about to leave when a beautiful black mid-year Vette convertible with side pipes started up and was slowly backing out of its parking spot right next to me. I was drawn in by the sweet, deep sound of that V8. I could feel the vibration in my legs and in my chest. The reflection of the clouds on the curvy glass-like black paint was completely spellbinding.
And then suddenly, it happened...the driver of the car backed right over my foot! I was so lost in the sensation of that Vette, that I just froze like a deer in headlights. The driver must have assumed that I would get out of the way. He felt something since he quickly looked back, but I was so embarrassed that I acted like nothing happened, even though it hurt a little (amazingly, nothing broken). I did not even tell my Uncle about it until a couple of months later. I feared he would've yelled at me for being too close.
That day made such an impression on me (literally!) that I desired a mid year BLACK Corvette for a very long time...and 22 years later, I finally found one, right down to the side pipes and rumbly V8. And trust me, when I back it up, I always look twice!