Forever young no longer

Okay, so I'm 50. Not so bad, really. But it's old enough to remember when my hair was thicker and my waistline thinner. It's old enough to be greeted at work with a banner over the door and a black shroud over my desk. It's old enough to be thinking, for the first time, about growing old.

So here's what I'm going to do about it.

I'm going to find and restore a car from my youth – a 1960s Ford Mustang. Convertible, if possible. Just this weekend I read that the Mustang went public on April 17, 1964 – two days after my seventh birthday. I don't remember the first time I saw one, but I do recall the Mustang becoming my first car crush. I made models of them, gawked at them, dreamed of them. Just this winter my son and I made another Mustang model, so I guess you could say the crush hasn't faded.

What do I know about restoring a car? Nothing whatsoever. Makes it the perfect project, because what I like most is learning about new things.

I won't be doing this alone. I couldn't do it alone. I plan to tell you about the people I meet along the way, if they're willing. I also plan, of course, on telling you about my restoration project itself as it stumbles along – and about my 50s, too. It figures to be an interesting decade.

Enough for now. Next time I'll introduce you to the people who inadvertently set this idea in motion: my dad and stepmother. From there, we'll start looking for that car.