My sophomore year at Tulane University in New Orleans, my dad bought me a brand new Geo Tracker – blue with removable white top. It was the most wonderful vehicle ever invented.
During the Spring of 1992, my girlfriends and I drove the Tracker to Atlanta for the unofficial Black College Spring Break called Freak-nic. I look at the photos of that weekend and look at those girls – short skirts and shades on Peachtree Street. Wow, would our kids recognize us? Would they think it possible that their moms were parked in the middle of a major thoroughfare standing in a convertible talking to boys in the next car? All the things we warn them against now.
The Tracker took my little group everywhere for the next 4 years. Cruising around Lake Pontchartrain. Driving to Texas for football and basketball games. Escaping hurricanes. And of course the trips to Hot-Lanta!
In the end, the little Tracker had to be sold. It was beaten beyond my financial ability to repair it. And someone had stolen the vinyl covering that served as the back window! Mold had begun to grow in the back seat. The sell was probably my first grown up decision. I wanted to hold on to the Tracker forever, but it was time to let go.