Friday, July 22, 2011

My Dad, The Jag, And Me

Whoosh!
No way!
Is that a white, two-door convertible Audi that just zoomed passed?
Oh, my....it is!
Suddenly, just like that, I am missing my own convertible; my white, two-door Audi.

Then I begin to think about why I LOVE convertibles... Where I first was exposed to the idea of actually owning a car that you could in the old days manually lower the soft top or in more modern times, press a button, and whoosh! ...bring on a bad hair day! - yet, feel one with the sky above and the road below.

When I was 10, maybe I was 9 years old; well, anyway, it was the summer before my fifth grade year - my dad invited me to take a road trip in his racing green two-seater, low-to-the-ground JaguarXKE to visit two of my older brothers in Prescott, Arizona.


Why my dad asked me - child number 10 out of 11 - I've never known. I've never asked. I've never complained.

The best memory from that trip is picture perfect; ingrained in my happy-thoughts storage bank. We were driving down a stretch of highway, my semi-long, ordinary brown hair whipping at my face; oh, boy was I loving it! I looked over at my dad; saw that his grey-ish colored ponytail was trying so hard to let loose, lashing about like a horse's tail trying to swat a fly. "I love riding in this car," I screamed. "This is so fun!" My dad smiled at me, a knowing smile, as if to say, 'Me, too. Me, too.'

Later, when I was telling my dad "That Jaguar is so neat. I love that car. When I grow up I'm going to get a convertible, too." he gave me a brief lecture (what can I say, the guy was a college professor!); a lecture that has always made sense to me. "A convertible isn't for everyone. A lot of people buy one just to look good, but then find out they hate driving with the top down. They hate their hair getting messed up, and the blast of wind in their face. So, if you do find yourself ready to purchase a convertible someday, make sure you really want it."

So, when that little white Audi flew right passed my big, huge air-conditioned-filled SUV, I felt a bit envious of that unknown person.

I am a convertible girl!

It's exhilarating to push the automatic button to lower the beige soft-top, press the accelerator, and whoosh!, let the wind whip my hair every-which-way.

I'm pretty sure my dad smiles down on me, quite often; watching me zooooooom along, wind in my face; satisfied.

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