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The colder it gets the more I think of summer. I think of driving around the lakes in an open top car.

Which brings me to the power of perception.

Years ago, I had a girlfriend who owned a "chick car" par excellence. I have written about such cars at length in the past so anyone who reads this blog will know I am talking about the sin qua non of chick cars--the Honda Del Sol (no longer made.) This cutest of little targa toppers is primarily driven by hairdressers and their himbos (hairdressers--good, himbos--not.)

Anyway, years ago (and I mean a long, long time ago when I was dating beauty school training instructors) I took the Del Sol out for a spin around the Lakes with a buddy of mine and a minature dachshund called, appropriately "Mini." Mini was the beauty school instructor's pet and I found it was a real "magnet" for conversations.

And so Jimbo (that's my friend) went crusing around Calhoun on one sunny day. When we pulled the car over by the Calhoun Pavillion the bladers and walkers stopped to chat.

And chat.

And, well, all I can say is that I felt like Adam Ant without the make-up for a spell.

Was it the car, or the dog, or us dudes?  I've never been mobbed like this since. Nor did I see the car, the dog or the woman after that day. It was like, "who said my stuff was yours? and what makes you think you can do runway?"

I think Jimbo tried to date Colleen down the line but the rumors had already started.

He got married a few years later.

We exchange Christmas cards to this day.

His family has a puppy.