CARS.....and what I don't know about them

I know nothing about cars. Less than nothing. We're talking about makes and models here. Of course I know nothing about the workings of cars, except where the key goes and where the gas goes and how to make the music come out. No one could expect me to know more. I've made a lifetime career of not knowing. I LOVE not knowing, so why start now?
     It's the identification of cars I am really rotten at. I know lots of women who know about certain cars, like them, want one. If I witnessed an accident the only things I could testify to in court would be the bumper stickers, and the vanity plate if it spelled out something cute or clever. I know a schoolbus when I see one, and I know a motorcycle, but very little in between. I know PT Cruisers because I think they're cool looking, although there seem to be less of them now. Fell out of fashion I guess. I know some Corvettes (Stingrays?) some old Mustangs and Cadillacs. I want to see a Buick 8 because of the Stepehn King novel, but would I know it if I saw it? Nope.
     I know my favorite ever, the HUMMER! I just love everything about the HUMMER. I would have one if I could. In black. Big, gleaming, scary black. Or the brightest most pristine paper white. Whenever I left somewhere to drive home in it, I would announce to everyone who could hear that I am taking my HUMMER and hitting the road. IN MY HUMMER. God, I love saying it. My first and only brand new car was a 1978 red Dodge Aspen with a cream vinyl roof. My parents warned us about the vinyl roof. 'The monkeys at Great Adventure will rip it up!' they said. Having been to GA only once, why did they think I'd be fraternizing with monkeys? Although the thought is a thrilling one, it is not one I had entertained.
Over the years, cars came and went. The old boat of a brown Oldsmobile named Dorothy. So named because when we turned the key in the ignition, she wheezed and whined, protesting so much that we'd scream 'Surrender Dorothy!' and disolve into shreiks of laughter.  A cute little pale gold Ford something, named Kitty after the 91 year old we bought her from. 8 years old and barely 14,000 miles on her. My white Thunderbird, the first car I bought myself, by myself, for myself.  A silver Skylark named Bubbles' The rotten little wreck of a disaster we bought two years ago and had for 5 months. Paid $1800 for it, put $2000 into it, jumked it and got $200 for our trouble, Even the charities that take cars didn't want it. Car had bad mojo.
So, would I know these cars, and the many others I've had if I saw them again? If they were in the color I had, yes. Other than that, no.However, I will know the glorious, gas guzzling, show offy, larger than life HUMMER when I am senile, half blind and in the home. Cause I just love that car, the HUMMER.