Mid-Life Crisis Black

On Wednesday, September 28, 2011, I was in love for five hours.  Her name was Corvette.  Sometimes, the smallest, tiniest things make me happy!

Several weeks ago, my daughter informed me that she was participating in her Homecoming parade and needed a convertible to cruise her around during the parade.  So, I brainstormed for a while until I remembered a family friend that owned a black convertible Corvette.  I called the family friend and to my surprise he was willing to lend me the Corvette for a couple of hours.

When I arrived to pick up the car, I was overwhelmed by the beauty of the car.  The car’s owner asked me several questions before he handed over the key.

OWNER:   Have you ever driven a Corvette before?

ME: Um…no.

OWNER: Have you ever driven in a parade before?

ME:  Uh…No.

MY THOUGHTS: Uh, oh…he’s getting cold feet. I’m not building much confidence here.

OWNER:  Have you ever driven a stick before?

ME: Yes!  Yes!  Of course!

MY THOUGHTS: Okay.  Okay. Good recovery. I’m back!

OWNER:  When was the last time you drove a stick?

ME:  I started stuttering a little, “Uh….it’s been 4 to 5 years, I think, I guess.”

MY THOUGHTS:  Actually, Earl, I can’t remember the last time you’ve driven a stick. It’s been at least 15-years!  I’m done! He’s not going to let me drive the car.

OWNER:  I will be glad to drive your daughter in the parade.

MY THOUGHTS:  Oh no! I’ve got to win him over! I will never be able to afford this car, this is my only chance! He’s having second thoughts. I can sense it.

OWNER: Actually, Earl, you will be the second person other than me to actually drive this car.

MY THOUGHTS:  Now, I feel a big lump in my throat but I sense him coming around.  Say something, Earl.

ME:  Thank you for having the confidence in me to drive this car. I consider it an honor and I will take good care of her.

He proceeded to go over the details (cranking, opening/closing the convertible, etc., etc.). I cranked up the engine, put it in first, eased out the clutch, gave it a little gas, and then CLUNK!  She died on me!

OWNER:  The owner said disparagingly, “You’ve got to give her some gas, it’s a hydraulic clutch, and she can handle it.”

MY THOUGHTS:  WTH is a hydraulic clutch and why do we refer to vehicles and boats as females? If you give any female a little gas…they can’t handle it!

Now, I’m really starting to feel the pressure and I’m ready to give into his offer of driving my daughter through the parade.  Determined, I cranked the Vette, put it in first, let out the clutch, and gave her some gas!  Yes! I’m off and running! No problems! It’s just like riding a bike but a lot sweeter!

I proceed to drive the Vette to my house and I drive her around my cul-de-sac at least 4 to 5 times trying to simulate parade speed.  I’m feeling better about the hydraulic clutch and the timing with the gas pedal.  The fear of throwing my daughter off the back of the Vette is now subsiding.

On my way to meet my daughter at the parade, I open the Vette up a little and I’m feeling even more confident.  Now, I know why my Dad did not buy me a fast car as a teenager.  He wanted me to live to see my 17th birthday.

The parade goes by without incident.  Brandi is happy. The car is a hit. It’s a beautiful day but it’s now time to return her to her rightful owner. Or, is it?

My wife informs me that my son needs to be picked up from his friend house. Yes! I’m off to the races again and I choose the longest route to the friend’s house and shortcuts are now a thing of the past!

Once my son is picked up and buckled up, I tell him to hang-on.  Again, I choose the longest route back to the owner’s house, and I open her up again to let my son experience the power of a real engine and a real car.  Wow is the only word that my son can scream through the wind.  I’m thankful for this day.  I’m thankful that no law enforcement is within my vicinity.  For once in my life, I really wanted a fast and powerful car!  Is it any wonder that I happen to be 42 and right smack in the very middle of my very own mid-life crisis?