Sunday, May 25, 2008
I'm the first born. This is a position in birth order that around here means absolutely nothing. It certainly doesn't mean better, or favorite, or smarter, or taller, or nicer, or even more faithful. It just means first. But today first was fantastic. Because I luckily -- and quite by chance -- live in the same city in which my father decided to buy his dream car; I was the first of his children to drive it!
This honor is second only to the honor of being the first sibling to see the excitement in my father's face. His childish giddiness while going 80 mph before shifting out of second. Witnessing the thisisbetterthanchristmasmorning jitters and sleeplessness and giggling as he punched the gas so fast that my liver stayed back a few exits. The enthusiasm in which he showed off all the buttons and gadget to two of his grandsons.
My father's goal to purchase this car is more than his own pride and pleasure, it's a part of my childhood memories. For as long as I can remember -- and I am not exaggerating -- he has pointed out, talked about, discussed the benefits of, professed an admiration for, and just plain salivated over this car. All the while taking me and all my siblings along for the "ride". In seeing his excitement, his thrill, his satisfaction in purchasing this one item I'm aware that I need a Corvette. I don't mean to say that I actually need a Corvette. I need a "someday".