Blogs » CARS MATTER » How I became the most hated teenager at Stephen F. Austin High

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Image As this tale unfolds, chances are you may be tempted to question the author (i.e., me). But believe me: It's the stone truth. I was there, and I was taking notes. And I was there, through the whole biz.

Here's the scenario: During my high school days in Austin, I had done reasonably well with my studies. (I mean, what was I going to do? I wasn't a jock, and the other options were sorta slim.) So I buckled down with the books, and did reasonably well. (Except for chemistry. One word: aaauuuggghhh!!)

The upshot: By senior year, I had a decent resume, thanks to some really excellent teachers, and a certain amount of effort on my point (which came fairly readily, thanks to the aforementioned teachers and the ever-growing mania that pushed millions of students to seek slots in big-time universities.

Finally, came senior year, and, having doing reasonably well with the books, I could relax just a bit. What I didn't anticipate -- not in the most gaudy of my dreams -- was how I was going to be rewarded by my mom and dad for putting together a fairly decent academic record.

When The Day came, I was not even close to having any idea of what was going to come. Dad and Mom slyly suggested that I might slip outside to take a quick look at what I would find there.

Now, being a fairly wise teenager, I had dared to hope for something on four wheels -- but nothing even close to what awaited me.

I had privately dreamed of taking possession of, oh, say an MG or a Triumph. There were the sports cars that I had lusted after for years. What could be better?

Well, pardner, I found out. What it was, was an absolutely stop-you-in-your-steps blue-grey 1958 Jaguar XK-150.

After I regained my senses, I preceded to get acquainted with the Jag . . . and I found it at once a glorious entry into semi-maturity and a challenge to my driving prowess (such as it was). Meanwhile, a kid whose Triumph TR roadster had cut a huge swath at the school suddenly fell into the foliage. I didn't feel all that good about that, but, hey, you take what you got. . . . In good time, the Jaguar and I parted, but the memory will remain with me always. There may be another Jag in my life awaiting, but for now this one will do very well indeed, thank you.

Photo above is not my car, but similar.