When I was a kid and living on 2nd avenue, there was a fellow down the street who had a white Rambler. Once I was riding my bike down the sidewalk (bad idea it turns out) and the fellow in the Rambler was backing out of his driveway. I ran smack into the side of the car, slid forward off the seat (the 'banana' seat on a StingRay bike) and came to a stop with the handlebar mount firmly planted in my crotch. Ouch. I remember this event like it happened last week.
My sister dated a fellow who drove a Rambler. It was like tan, or gold or thereabouts colorwise, and I remember that I thought it was cooler than the muscle cars of the time. It had more of a counter culture feel to it; like a VW, but more reliable. He moved to LA for a while, then came back and said it was a very plastic place.
Somewhere in between those two times (I think I was about 12 or 13) I built a boat out of plywood and covered it in Fiberglas. It was really quite a messy smelly operation. I colored the resin bright orange. The boat didn't really work that well. It was narrow like a kayak but had sides that were tall, so it was kind of top heavy. I remember taking it to the construction site where there is a telephone microwave relay station now. (The really tall building in southeast Redwood City) There was a giant puddle like 100 feet across from the heavy rains. I paddled the boat across this which was lots of fun, except it was raining and I got soaked. I also had to carry the boat the six or eight blocks to get there, then carry it home. We took it up to my grandfather's property (31 acres in Lake County) and tried it on the widened creek there. The high sides made it really hard to row. I think we left it up there to rot. When I think back I have to say my folks really indulged my creative spirit and went through a lot to get me in the water with the boat. I bet I can find some pictures of it in all my Dad's old photos.