Blast from the past

When I was young, I thought I could whup the world.  ARRGGGG, don't mess with me or you'll receive a butt whuppin' you won't soon forget -- seems to be the look on my face in this picture.
I was standing in front of our beloved 1956 Ford. It's one of the prettiest cars my family ever owned.
It was two-town green. The top was the color of lime sherbet, and the bottom was the color of the forest in summer.
I spent a lot of time in this car. I'd sit for hours in that care pretending I was driving all over the country, while the Ford was parked in front of our house.
I can still smell the vinyl (?) seat covers and the cigarettes that daddy has snuffed out in the ashtray.
The only problem with the Ford is that it didn't like cold weather and often wouldn't crank. My daddy spoke badly of the Ford and those who'd designed and built it.
One day when I came home, there was a new car in the driveway. The only explanation was when daddy said, I need something that will crank in the winter time.
So, there. A blast from the past.