Before they had children, my parents were cool. Groovy, actually.
Their story began in 1969, with Mom proposing to Dad three weeks after they met. At their wedding, she wore a mini-dress and fresh daisies in her hair. Afterward, they hopped in their 1967 Ford Mustang and began a 45-year journey together.
Driving was a favourite pastime. Their Mustang, a Spring-time Yellow hardtop, had a bigger body than previous models. That year’s redesign added separate triple tail lamps, a longer nose and a bigger grille for a more aggressive look.
“The old Mustang had a real purr when it took off,” Mom said. “Everyone knew there was a Mustang coming.”
Ford also introduced some standard safety features in 1967, including an impact absorbing steering column, dashboard padding and seat belts, but according to Mom, “Everybody hated the seat belts because they messed your clothes up.” I guess safety was not one of her priorities back then.
Parenthood brought many changes, including their car. The Mustang was sold and replaced with a Ford Pinto – quite a sacrifice in terms of style.
So with their 45th wedding anniversary approaching, I wanted to surprise my parents with a trip down memory lane. Since the Mustang recently had its 50th anniversary, I thought it would be nice for them to take one for a spin again and revisit some of their old haunts.
The surprise was on me, however, when I realized all their favourite places had changed. The Toronto ballroom where they met had become a thrift store. Their favourite restaurant had been converted into a church. The farm where they boarded horses and went riding was now a subdivision.
I did manage to find a Mustang, at least, and discovered that one thing hadn’t changed: my parents’ sense of adventure.
They were pretty excited when I pulled into their driveway in a Race Red 2015 Mustang. After years of driving a minivan, they couldn’t get over how low to the ground the Mustang was. They thought it looked smaller than theirs had been.
This sparked a conversation about the challenges of aging limbs that didn’t bend like they used to.
Just as my parents’ joints had matured, so had the Mustang. They were surprised to learn there was a 2.3-litre, four-cylinder EcoBoost engine under the hood with a fuel efficiency of 9.2 litres/100 km (city/highway combined). Their old V-8 had been a real gas hog, they said.
They were impressed by the “new-fangled gadgets,” especially the backup camera with park assist, the blind-spot monitors and the navigation system.
The proximity key entry system was a bit confusing, however. They kept locking the doors, but it wasn’t working, Mom complained. When I explained how the key automatically unlocked the doors as they approached the car, they were impressed all over again. Bluetooth, voice commands and touchscreen controls – this was the stuff of science fiction in their Mustang days.
After a run-through of the features and a lesson in how to start a car with no key, it was time for a long drive through the countryside. With 310 horsepower under the hood, “It’s nice and peppy,” Mom said. “I had to be careful not to go too fast!”
Our tester model had three steering modes: sport, comfort and normal, which Mom chose to stick with. “It steers beautifully, and handles really nicely.”
It had been many years since my parents had driven a sports car, and by the time they handed back the keys, they were beaming.
“If I was a young man again, I’d buy one,” Dad said. “It was a really nice ride.”
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