The Car
The sun glistening off the chrome mirrors, the khaki top down the wind flowing through the car, the white interior stitched with red almost as if it is a baseball. The candy apple red paint glistening in the sun the two white race stripes cutting down the lanes on sand covered road, the heat of the California desert blaring off the asphalt the humid wind flowing through the cab of the car as the gas pedal is pushed to the floor the roar of the 350 tearing through the wind, the dark clouds pouring over the mountains in the distance as the car reaches 120 mph, as it reaches a curve in the middle of the road, without slowing the car barrels around the slow grade turn with ease. The seats of the car are bright white stitched with red the
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The dashboard is illuminated with all kinds of lights, after market back lights light up the speedometer with a low green tone, the back lights on the tachometer are illuminated with a low red glow, the steering wheel has a khaki outer rim with metal in links all leading to the horn covered by a horse that black on a white background the knobs for the wiper blades and lights are towards the driver door, they are capped by black grips leading into the …show more content…
The car picks speed up again, this time hitting 120 mph the car roars like i lion as it takes off, going faster the gas gauge reads a quarter of a tank just enough for the driver to get home, as the driver pulls into the city the passing cars honk at the car. The beauty of the car in the city lights as they shine bright off of it, as the driver pulls off the main stretch of road into his sub division, pulls into his driveway opens his garage and pulls up next to his other two american muscle cars, his ‘69 Dodge Challenger, and his ‘70 Pontiac GTO he lets his ‘69 Ford Mustang GT 500 roll into his garage as the roar of the engine is silenced the lights are shut off the beast is put to sleep awaiting the chance that it will one day again be able to run the deserts of California as the garage closes so does the end of a beautiful day of driving the monster, as the car sits in the garage awaiting the next time its gets to roam free, the smell of burning brakes, hot transmission, and a heated engine from a long day's drive, the gas gauge now reading empty as the dust and sand from the California desert are washed away from the tires, the day will be a memory of the miles driven in the beautiful
Ace Atkins begins by providing the reader with a scenario of two distinct persons driving a Prius and a Ford truck. He describes the stereotypical thoughts that may run through the Prius driver’s mind of the Ford driver such as being “a red stater”. The tone of Atkins introduction is certainly humorous and nonchalant as he explains that the man behind
My car slows as it approaches a stoplight. I take this opportunity to allow my mind to become engulfed with my surroundings: the bright fierce red of the traffic light, the brilliant blue sky with its specs clouds, and the mass of hurried people. The four corners of the intersection are filled with people who are preoccupied with their fast-paced lives to notice the little things, such as animals and anxious cars awaiting the traffic light. My thoughts vigorously put all of the information that my mind has gathered from the intersection to order.
There is no doubt that automobile plays an inevitable role in the world’s history, especially in the history of America. Both Kline and Pinch and Flink are on the problem of automobile, but they certainly have various focus. In Three stages of American automobile consciousness written by Flink, it divides the auto history into three stages and mainly argues about the history or the development of automobile industry in America, which is written in a big picture. On the other hand, Kine and Pinch tend to discuss the connection between rural area and automobile, also how gender get involved in the social construction after cars are brought to the America.
The author then looks back upon the time in his life when her mother decided to drive Hunter Jordan’s old car. However, she didn’t know how to drive, and was generally afraid to get behind the wheel. On that day, she drove crazily on the road, and declared to never drive again. James McBride also reflected on his life up to a teenager, who knew that bad things would occur in the not too distant future if he didn’t change his ways and behavior.
Erdrich, Louise. "The Red Convertible." The Story and Its Writer. 5th ed. Ed. Ann Charters. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin's, 1999.
In 1960, the American car landscape itself had expanded as Detroit began offering “compacts” alongside their full-size models. Many drivers, however, were looking for something in between these full size and compact model; this interest gave way to a new class, the intermediate. With many innovations between 1960 and 1964, like the 406 cubic inch V8 from Ford, the 389 from General Motors, and the wedge V8s from Chrysler, the golden age of muscle cars began in 1964. The Pontiac Tempest G...
“The car aimed ahead its lowered parking lights; under the hood purred the steady engine. I stood in the glare of the warm exhaust turning red; around our group I could hear the wilderness listen” (13-16). As I read it seems like the car is a bit personified. “The car aimed ahead its lowered parking lights” (13). The car is a metaphor for the living, the lowered lights are more like sad eyes, mindful of the death behind it, and it’s looking ahead down the dark road of life, away from the problems of death. Also “under the hood purred the steady engine” (14) it brings to mind the steady, beating heart of the living that surrounds. In this line, “I stood in the glare of the warm exhaust” (15) like its breath in the nights air, which adds to the personification of the car, being alive.
Although he promises to think about her “warm proposition,” the movie never again explores this possibility. Alternately, he can buy the engine, which serves both as an assertion of masculinity and—as his friend notes—as a signifier of class. While he opts to try this, the entire plan is ill-fated; the scene where he picks up the engine contains some of the most imbalanced sequences in the entire movie, and the extreme and off-putting diagonal of the street effectively communicates to the viewer that the engine will fall long before it actually occurs. His only ways out of his job slaughtering sheep are through unfaithfulness or by being an accessory to murder.
In Louise Erdrich’s “The Red Convertible” chronicles both the erosion of childhood innocence and the dissolution of a particular sibling relationship. In order to suggest these themes, the narrative foregrounds imagery of movement and stasis, conveying their meanings in complex ways. As such, it’s no surprise that the title of the story itself not only describes the symbolic importance of the convertible to their brotherhood, but also embodies freedom to transcend one’s societal confinements, which, in this case, imparts the literal power of movement. The car gives both of them a kind of agency that lifts them from their economic and social disadvantages as Native Americans. Hence the story establishes the joyful memories of Lyman and Henry’s brotherhood with an extended description of their movement throughout the land, going as far up to Alaska. Not surprisingly, Lyman thinks that making Henry focus on the car, an agent and symbol of freedom, will ultimate save his brother’s soul and regain his spirit. Unfortunately, this turns out to be a false assumption.
Honda, The Car Everyone Needs Beep! Beep! Beep! Goes the alarm clock in the other room. Oh man, surely it can't be time to get up yet, you think to yourself. As you scramble out of the bed and into the shower, the thought crosses your mind, I hope my car starts.
The car was hot and stuffy when I slipped back into the driver's seat. I found the most depressing music I owned and drove out of Glenwood as the sun started to set. Two more hours until I was home, two more hours of thinking what a terrible day I had gone through, and two more hours of cussing myself for being so naïve. The drive was a long one.
Naples is a very unique city that attracts people from all over the world to its beautiful surroundings. Amongst the pristine beaches and championship golf courses, a teenager can find many entertaining locations. One such area can be found in downtown Naples on Fifth Avenue. Along this stretch of road near the beach lies a vast array of shops, cafes, restaurants, and other establishments. I often find myself spending many nights on Fifth Avenue, walking along the tree-lined streets or sitting in one of the numerous cafés or restaurants.
When most people think about an eventful or memorable place, they almost certainly would not picture a bus. As we all know, buses are not exactly attractive. The design scheme is the same in almost every bus: rows and rows of brown seats, a thin black aisle down the middle of the bus, hundreds of hazy windows, and the big, lemon-yellow exterior. Not many people, I am sure, would consider buses to be an important part of their lives. However, if a person were to think about it, they would realize that they probably have had at least one memorable experience in their life that took place on a bus.
I lived with my father for my entire life, but due to his work I did not spend much time with him. My father worked at a different city; and thus he comes home only a few times a month. My father is a mechanic. He works at a company that is distant from our home. This was due to the company being the only one and the first where cars were being assembled in Ethiopia. Sometimes on the weekends I used to go to his work place. He would give me a trip of the place; the station was filled with vehicles, trucks, and motorcycles. It was separated by sections. In each section there were only one type of vehicle and the assembly process was shown step by step. From a fuse to large engine of the car, components were getting attached.
This picture, probably the only one in existence of all my friends together, has more meaning than it seems. At first, it appears to be nothing more than a happy congregation of teenagers, all from the ages of fifteen to sixteen. In the background you can see a fence enclosing a sand volleyball court. My friends that are kneeling on the bottom row are Shawn (who is affectionately known as Goose because of his long neck and his last name being Gosselin) and Paul. The ones on the top row are, from left to right, Brad, Matt, Kayla, Charlie, Jenny, Greg, Brent, and Daniel. I am at the far right side. You can tell by the expressions on some of their faces, especially Paul's, that they weren't quite ready for the picture to be taken, for more reasons than one. First, there was someone else taking a picture at the same time. Also, most of them never could have guessed that the picture would have to be taken in the first place. After all, I was supposed to be with them forever, right? Wrong. This was my going-away party.