My first car was a 1955 ford convertible. It was red and white with a black top. The top was down more than it was up. I had more friends, guys and gals, than I could handle. My fluffy dice hanging from the mirror and red plastic seats where great to sit in and look at. The rock and roll music played and I and the passengers wiggled and shaked to the music. There were always 2 people in the car and most of the time 4. I always had a girfriend and she had a girfriend. So the guys wanted to hang around too. They wanted to ride with my girlfriend's girlfriend.
The dash had the letters "JUD_" glued to it. The last letter was missing so I could fill it in with "Y" or "I" or "E". and I knew a JUDY and a JUDI and a JUDE. The car made me bad and that is probably why I drag raced on the streets.
The memorable part was the year round touring around my hometown with my friends in the car. Whether it rained or snowed The top was down. Wet soaked driver and passengers listening to Rock and Roll. The legs and feet were warm because the heater was on full blast as well as the music. Our tops were either soaked or frozen. The only time the top came up was when we stopped at the "Angels Airport" which of course was the Local Lovers Lane.
These were the best memories of the silly things I did in those years. The car made me do it.
This is why I now have a 1977 MGB Convertible. I still love touring around town with the top down. However I don't do any of those naughty things. The car has curred me.