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MUSTANG BLONDE

By Michele Kadison

I grew up in a small town in Westchester County, New York. Because I didn’t go to public school there, I didn’t know too many of the kids in my neighborhood, or anywhere in the nearby area for that matter. And to make matters even more complicated, I was a ballet dancer, with my social life centering around dance classes, rehearsals, and my fellow company members. I think the kids in town must have been curious about me, seeing me walk home from the bus every day so late, but we never had a chance to mingle. That is, until the day my dad bought me a 1966 Shocking Blue Mustang Convertible with padded bucket seats, wrap around bumpers, and a gunmetal gray grill with that unmistakable logo flying right smack in the center!



Smart guy, my dad. The first day I lowered myself into that 4 foot, three inch-high baby, I knew my life had changed forever. I released the latches to the roof and slowly lowered it back into its hatch. Sexy. I turned over the ignition, listening to that V-8 engine power up, took my hair out of its ponytail, and pulled out of the driveway to see just how apocalyptically my universe had changed.


Who’s that girl in the bright blue mustang? I could see it on the faces of the boys hanging outside of the high school. She’s cool, we like her. I could see it in the anxious faces of their wanna-be girlfriends – a new rival in town! Who is she? She’s cool, we hate her. I put my left hand on top of the steering wheel, my right hand on the shift, let the wind blow through my hair, and drove on by, a small smile hovering around my lips. My time had come to see what life would bring outside the dance studio. From bun-head to Mustang blonde, I was in for the thrill of a seventeen-year-old lifetime.