I've loved cars ever since the day, as a li'l jasper, I found one under the tree on Christmas morning. Not a toy, but a real
I paid Dad's chauffeur to give me driving lessons, but I was too young to go out on the public roads. So we'd zoom around the back nine of the Oakland Hills Country Club. Gosh, those golfers were hopping mad, even if I did have the chauffeur yell "fore" whenever we drove over a green! Guess they didn't know who my dad was.
Got my own car with my own money when I was 15. I didn't think it would be moral to get a car for free just because my dad was the boss of the company, so I bought a used Nash Metropolitan convertible with money I'd made running a credit-default-swaps stand. I used part of my weekly allowance to have one of our maids wash it every day. A dirty car says "dirty person."
That little puddle jumper was so tiny I could drive it around inside our house. Boy, was dad steamed the time I backed it into the middle of a prayer meeting!
But then I had to get rid of the Metro. Driving around with the top down made an awful mess of my hair. Messy hair, messy person!