I have a friend who owns a 1968 convertible. This morning I dropped my children at soccer camp for the day, and drove to her house with my head scarf on. I knocked on her door and said "Good Morning Thelma! It's me... Louise, and I'm here for a drive." She grabbed her keys and off we went. Honestly, it was a perfect morning for a drive, and the perfect way to reclaim a tiny bit of 1968.