By Jim Hagarty
For a few years, in my younger days, I went scootin’ around in one of these things, a 1966 Chevrolet Chevelle. I saw this beauty, a 1969 model, in my hometown travels today. Hard to believe it is almost 50 years old.
This looks like an SS (Super Sport). Mine was a four-door Chevelle Malibu. Robin egg blue. My Dad bought it for me from a neighbour who rarely drove it. He paid $400. In spite of being a sedan, my ’66 Malibu went like stink. Today, the name Chevelle is long retired but the Malibu lives on. However, I keep forgetting that the “Big Three” automakers often had different names for the same cars, depending on whether they were made for Canada or the U.S.
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Author: Jim Hagarty
I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.
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