Back when I still didn’t even have a driver’s license, my best friend already had a red car. It was almost the kind of car they drive in Flintstone cartoons, where they stick their feet in and then run really fast. But it was real, and it was red, and it was filled with stuffed bears.
Standing in traffic jams, we held spontaneous dance parties in the front seats while singing along to home-made mix tapes. We shared heart-throb stories and quizzed each other on school stuff before exams. And my best friend even let me drive it. Once.
Fast forward 10 years later. We are in a two-seater red convertible Honda, roaring up Highway 1 up the California coast. Listening to a mix tape – on an MP3 player. Sharing heart-throb stories, sunshine and fish tacos. Pointing the camera out above our heads and shooting video of palm trees and hunky surfers with spiky hair. Screaming songs we used to sing in the other red car. It’s the kind of day you want to bottle up and use as perfume.
For everyone who wishes they were on a beach in Cali or just wants to share a gold moment with someone, here’s Mr. Blunt.