Was a teenager in the late '70s in a small town in Eastern Connecticut…weekend nights were spent cursing between several spots…we'd all meet up at the parking lot next to the Pizza Palace and then go to the hill, the trestle, the cabin, etc. It wasn't really centered on the cars, more just socializing in spots that were "private". The cars were just a way to get from one spot to another quickly and in style. When I go home to visit my mom, I drive by all these spots and I never see anyone. Don't see any vintage cars either.
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"If the best Mustang is the Camaro, the best Camaro is actually the Firebird" David Zenlea
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