Sally Tuckahoe was given the opportunity to buy her Grandparent’s ‘65 Chrysler New Yorker for an easy price. It was her first car and it helped elevate her dreams. She lived in the body of Kim, a simple art school student who wore jeans and t–shirts and men’s button down shirts. Kim liked the fact that she could stay late at the studio and not worry about missing the last bus as she had the ‘65 to get her home.
Sally loved her luxury car. It was an elegant ride. It floated like a boat on rough dirt roads and the Taconic Parkway with its cement base offering the rhythm of its seams in regular short intervals and curbs for cars going seventy. There was a pearlescent steering wheel that was lovely for showing off a new manicure with pink nail polish. Just turn the wheel with the palm of your hand and hold your fingers extended skyward. She often turned the AM dial to the French Canadian station to listen to the sexy love songs and didn’t understand a word that was said. What a lovely view.
Kim’s nails were short and often flecked with paint or dried by printing chemicals. She held the steering wheel with two hands and imagined the yellow lines as driving boundaries on a track or relished in the back road to Amherst all dirty and bumpy and enjoyed the little bit of country on the edge of suburbia and town. Sally loved the way her heels worked the easy gas pedal and opening the big car door, she could step out on pavement wearing a Joe Bonomo Special in silk with matching coat. A quick snap–shot revealed the bouffant blond in silk dress and matching coat all leggy with high spiky heels—looking like the back page out of a magazine advertising the elegance of Chrysler. Kim wore grey converse sneakers and if you put her in heals, well, you’d better not move her away from a wall—or move her at all.
Sally had a friend named Julie Burbank and they often drove around admiring the other cars and talking about boys and parties. Their favorite cartoon was the Jetsons. Their living quarters were stylishly modern with synthetic fabrics and bright mod colors. The Chrysler shined in the sun and reflected their good taste from an open window. Kim liked the history of the car. Here was the car her great–grandparents, Owen and Bess, drove up from Florida each summer. They had added seatbelts to the front seat as the car was equipped with none. It had a big roomy trunk to fit all of the luggage and the backseat was so big you could just walk in—no contorted twist to enter the back seat of the car. The car had a big gas tank and ran best on premium. She bought the car from her Grandparents and drove it home from Yonkers on the Taconic Parkway. It was a big car with a big ride. You could also get lucky and when parallel parking—never dent the bumper. Sally liked that feature too.