The Car That Was Never Mine but Always Felt Like It Was
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#carmemories #camaroz28 #nostalgia #growingup #carlife #memorylane #zsoltzsema #80s #camaroz28 #z28 #iroc
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A nostalgic look back at a 1987 Camaro Z28
Describe an item you were incredibly attached to as a youth. What became of it?
A true storyThe Car That Was Never Mine but Always Felt Like It Was
Yeah, it is rather sad, but that is how life works sometimes.
My dad worked for a big furniture company called Sealy. At some point, through persistence and timing, he convinced his boss to give him a company car. Like most leases, it ran on a three-year cycle. That detail mattered more to me than anyone could have known at the time.
That car was a 1987 Camaro Z28. Red and silver. Grey interior. Low. Loud. Perfect. It was a dream come true for a kid like me.
I washed that car before school. I washed it after school. If it rained, I washed it again. If a speck of dirt showed up, it was gone. That Camaro was spotless at all times. It was my pride and joy, even though it was never technically mine.
Back then, car culture was alive. Car meets. Late nights. Parking lots full of noise and bad ideas. Drag racing and street racing happened whether people like to admit it or not. Today, you would go to jail. Back then, you got stories.
And Yes, I Got Speeding Tickets
More than one. Still worth it.
Most nights were simple. Heading out with the boys. Sitting at McDonald’s parking lots, leaning against our cars, talking nonsense like it mattered. Cruising from Toronto to Brampton, then pushing further. Caledon. Wasaga Beach. Long stretches of highway and twisty roads where the drive mattered more than the destination.
There were no phones. No social media. No instant proof that it happened. We had Polaroids if someone remembered to bring one. That is why there are almost no photos left. Just fragments. Blurry memories. Sounds and smells that come back when you least expect them.
I still remember that when it rained in the summer. I would start up the air conditioner, and it had a musty smell to it. It disappeared after a few minutes, but the initial smell still lingers in my mind.
Honestly, That Might Be The Best Part
Those nights are burned into my memory in a way pictures could never do justice. The laughter. The stupidity. The freedom. The sense that nothing bad could touch us.
Then reality showed up. My dad was leaving the company. The car had to go back. The details of the buyout and the money side of it are fuzzy now. Time does that. What stood clear was the loss.
The Camaro Was Traded In
I ended up with a red Nissan pickup truck. Cheap. Basic. Five-speed manual. Red cap on the back. It did the job, but it had no soul. It was transportation, not a dream.
The worst part was the Nissan dealership. It was close to our house. Every time I drove by, I would see my old Camaro sitting there. Same car. Same stance. Same everything. I would stop and stare. More than once, I cried. I am not ashamed to say that.
At some point, I even saw the new owner at a gas station. Seeing someone else behind that wheel felt wrong, even though I knew it was never truly mine.
A Lasting Legacy
To this day, when I hear the word Camaro, my mind goes straight back to that 1987 Z28. Red and silver. Grey interior. The car that defined my teenage years.
Those memories are not about metal or horsepower. They are about freedom. About being young and reckless in a way that felt alive, not destructive. About nights that did not need documenting to be real. I wish I had more photos of that car. I really do.
And at the same time, I am glad I do not. Some things are better left untouched by timelines and feeds. Some memories are stronger because they live only in your head.
Good memories. Crazy memories. Fun memories.
That is what childhood and young adulthood should be about. And some cars never leave you, even when they were never yours to begin with.
#camaroz28 #carlife #carmemories #dailyprompt #dailyprompt1813 #growingup #memorylane #nostalgia #z28
THROWBACK THURSDAY
A walk down #MemoryLane with Toni & Josiah on their actual #Wedding day in the park. I'm so #Blessed they allowed me to officiate the ceremony.
Watch it. Like it. Follow. Subscribe. Share.
https://youtu.be/rwji3e73Zpw?si=mwoJOS9HhVsYZc7Q
Odessa, Ukraine — fragments of a city that once felt like home
Here are some old photos from Odessa, a city that became a quiet anchor during the first years of my life on the road. In this post, I’m sharing 8 images taken across different moments and different visits, small windows into a place I kept returning to over time.
Back then, Odessa wasn’t just a stop on a map for me. It was a city I came back to again and again, because something about it felt alive in a way I couldn’t fully explain. I loved the atmosphere in the streets, the mix of history and everyday life, the long walks along the coast, and the architecture that seemed to tell stories even when you didn’t know the language. No matter what the weather was like, I walked. Rain, wind, or sun — it didn’t matter. Being outside, moving through the city, was part of how I experienced it.
Many of those days ended with the same small ritual. I would sit down at Aroma Kava, order a cappuccino and a piece of cake, and watch the city flow past. Locals, travelers, snippets of conversations in different languages, the sound of traffic and footsteps — all of it blended into a kind of calm background that made me feel both alone and connected at the same time.
The last time I left Odessa was in February 2022, through the airport. At the time, I didn’t know it would be the last time I would see the city the way I remembered it.
Since then, everything feels different. The memories are still warm, but they carry a quiet sadness now. If the war had never happened, I know I would still be going back, still walking those same streets, still sitting in the same cafés, and still adding new chapters to a place that once felt like a second home.
#odessaukraine #travelstories #citymemories #wanderlife #nomadjournal #urbanexplorer #coastalvibes #architecturelovers #streetmoments #coffeeandcake #slowtravel #photodiary #memorylane #fediverse #defconsocial #travel #explore #lifeontheroad
While going through my DVD collection, I came across this little gem, which I had totally forgotten about. I will never forget the moment, when I had him on the phone, totally unaware that it was Bill Nighy back then. 😅
25 once everyday items, now long forgotten, only your parents and grandparents would recognize
Today’s small moment: while browsing Amazon for games and puzzles suited for someone with dementia, I stumbled across Rack-O — the classic “rack ’em & score” card game.
Instantly transported back to the 1970s, when my friends and I played it endlessly. We absolutely loved that game, and seeing it again brought a simple, unexpected smile.
#SmallMoments #MemoryLane #Nostalgia #70sKids #DementiaCare #Games
What’s one piece of technology you feel nostalgia for, even if it wasn’t "better"?
Not the stuff that objectively improved your life.
The stuff that felt different: slower, stranger, more alive, more yours.
I want to hear the weird answers too.
#nostalgia #retrocomputing #oldtech #vintagecomputing #memorylane #WarmSignull
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