I turned 8 in 1978. I also tore apart my first SBC that year as my father owned a repair shop. That's another story.
Also that year a car was built, an American car. A Super Car.
A wedge shaped, ugly now, magnificent piece of machinery. I do not know when I found out about it, but I bet it was from a magazine in my dad's waiting room. Holy flying berkeley before I even knew what a flying berkeley was.
The Vector.
I was enamored. I wanted to design cars suddenly. berkeley being an astronaut, cars man! It got me into looking at other cars and finding the magnificence of the many classic designers, we all know the names. That is what killed the dream.
Man, I would draw like mad on any piece of paper I could find and had the time. Then I'd compare my stick figure car to the masterpiece designs like a Dino or a 356 or a Riviera.
Yep, I was not an automobile designer. I can't draw E36 M3. But that car, man it made me dream.
