My Father sent me a care package: my baby crib from the 1960's. The picture is of a toy Mustang Fastback from Ford, but it's a replica of the car my Dad was driving when I was born.
The toy is sweet. It's got a battery compartment and a motor that drives the rear wheels, and it has a mechanical bump-and-go arrangement in the front to allow it to steer automatically. There's two flashing lights in the rear window so I couldn't lose the car in the dark. It's not in bad shape being mostly made of metal, but it's obviously been loved and played with.
It's also a replica of the Fastback my Dad drove, right down to the paint scheme and the interior colours. It's also pretty similar to Steve McQueen's Mustang in "Bullitt" (1968). I think when my Mom saw that film, she convinced Dad to get rid of the car. I don't remember it well, but my parents have pictures of me learning to walk by grabbing onto the wheel well. I wouldn't have been much taller than the tire.
Dad traded the Mustang for a Ford Cortina, which is as tame a car as the name would imply. The tiny Cortina quickly was sold to make room for a Ford Galaxie 500, a land yacht that had enough room in the back seat for me to park the car I own now. The gas crisis hit, and the Galaxie was traded in for a Ford Pinto. I think you see the progression here: big engine then little engine. The Pinto got smashed, and we bought a Fairmont, a Taurus SHO, a Tempo, a Bronco pick-up, and finally a series of Escorts and Focuses. Dad worked for Ford all of his career so he was able to get fleet vehicles, which is why we changed cars so many times. Or maybe he just likes "new car smell".