Ok, enough about your youngster's first cars. This is how I got my first car at age 16, in 1948. My old Swede Dad said if I wanted a car, to save my money and buy one! So I did, from my Piggly Wiggly box-boy weekly paycheck. It was a 1930 Chevy Roadster with a rumble seat, in which I could hide 3 of my buddies when we snuck (is that a word?) into the drive in theatre. With the top down, we could park under a farmer's apple tree and shake the apples into the seats. I carried 2 quart cans of gas under the seat, in case I ran out of gas, so I could get to a gas station and buy a couple of gallons of their 22 cent a gallon gas. Often it wouldn't start in the sub-zero weather in Illinois, so we would push it out onto the highway, flag down a caring motorist and he would push me, sometimes all the way to school, if necessary.
The huge front fenders were solid enough to straighten bolts on, and I used to drive down alleys, banging into trash cans with the bumper and fenders, and would score extra points if the can lid flew over the fence into their yard. Top speed indicated 70 mph with the choke pulled partly out. This car was a real chick-magnet, and one of the girls had to regain control of the car, when I was sliding corners, holding onto the laminated wooden steering wheel. A segment of the wheel broke off, I fell out of the door, (which was held closed with a screen door spring) and ended up in a bar ditch, as she screamed with delight at what a cool guy I was. One halloween night, we tipped over 22 outhouses, and had to pull the last one over with a rope tied to the car. (always tip them over onto the door, in case someone is inside). End of story with my 6 cyl Chevy roadster, which could just barely out run the Model A's, from other schools. Nope, no serious accidents, but 3 speeding tickets and there was a number of times my Dad would make me park it for a whole week at a time, if he found out about the freshly repainted fenders or broken axles.

Roly.....please don't let my kids or grandkids read this!