In January of 1976, I was the only one on my floor in the dorm with a car, a little 1965 Spitfire with a roll bar. After midnight on the way back from Longmont, Co., I was driving with one friend in the passenger seat and three more sitting on the rear deck, holding onto the roll bar and freezing themselves sober. My friends in the dorm had named this seat, "the seat of honor". At a light in Boulder, a police officer pulled up next to me and got on his PA system as it was too cold to roll down his window to talk directly. He asked the guys on the rear deck if they were cold. They were too cold to say yes so they nodded and the officer went on his way when the light turned green. Times were simpler back then. My friend that was in the passenger seat for that old escapade is in Oklahoma now and when I finish recreating the original Spitfire, I'm going to OKC and giving his wife the passenger seat and making him ride the seat of honor.