Lately I have been wondering if I can still call myself a car enthusiast. I certainly grew up a car guy (kid) in the late 1960s. I was the one in the family who could identify all the neighbors by make and model of car. I had an extensive collection of die-cast toy cars and several slot car sets (I skipped school to play with one birthday present). I distinctly recall my first ride in a sports car (light blue MGB). I remember getting a high speed run around Lime Rock with a family friend in his '69 Corvette. At age 14, I was trusted to move the family cars in and out of the garage by myself (mom never saw the time I almost put her Maverick through the roll-up door). I got my license the day I turned 16, and immediately started saving for a car of my own. I read Road & Track cover to cover for specs on current cars, and skimmed Automobile Quarterly for stories about machines of the past. I learned to drive a stick shift by trading use of dad's moped (a legacy of the 1973 oil embargo) for access to a three-speed Chevy Vega, which a schoolmate had.

A Hemmings author wonders: what constitutes a "car guy," and am I still one?