My Parents Sold My Corvette While I Was in Tokyo

rolled my suitcase up my parents’ snowy driveway, and froze at the open garage: my 1969 Corvette Stingray – five years of 70-hour weeks and every spare dollar – was gone. Mom met me at the door with an oddly bright smile and held up my sister’s cruise photos. “Thanks to your car,” she said, “our daughter is having the time of her life.” I laughed.continue reading …