Drive.

I had a couple of people mention they hadn’t seen the picture of my car (probably because it’s buried on the old blog). Here it is again.

Note that I never miss an opportunity to pose for the camera.

Sometimes you just got unleash the kid in you. Especially behind the wheel of a 2005 Acura RSX Type-S on a Friday night down the main street through downtown.

The group of high school and/or college kids in the Volkswagen Jetta had nothing on me. 36 years old, 6000 RPMs, 3rd gear, 52 MPH. Through downtown. They’re thumpin’ their rap music, apparently through an pretty robust Alpine system according to all the tell tale stickers on the car. I’ve got “I Love The Nightlife (Disco ‘Round)” by Alicia Bridges cranked on the Bose system, sans advertisements. We Acura owners don’t like to boast.

They tried to race only once, even though there were numerous opportunities after that original spanking. They waved when we parted ways. It was all in good fun.

The kid still has it in him.

* * *

Is this all déjà vu? Read the last paragraph of this old blog entry.

Tonight Earl and I took the Acura to the dealership to have the rest of the accessories installed and to have the windshield replaced. It’ll be nice to finally be rid of that chip I got six miles from the dealership the night I was driving the car home on her maiden voyage. The fine folks at Crest Acura gave us a loaner car for the evening. We had the opportunity to drive home my RSX’s older brother, a 2003 Acura RSX. He has a few more miles under his tires, he isn’t quite a shiny but he drives very well. He’ll make someone very happy someday.

But I miss my baby desperately.

Earl constantly reminds me that he doesn’t get emotionally attached to cars. He can trade them in without a hint of remorse and he can walk by his cars without so much as a glance. I’m just the opposite. I fall in love with my cars. When we’re on the road together, we become one. Laughing together as we race past others on the Thruway, leaving the others in the dust. I get all emotional when I decide to trade them, no matter their track record. I even got a little misty when we traded in the ’01 Impala, even though that car cost us a mint to keep it running and it was only four years old. Whenever I’m thinking of buying a new car, I get all superstitious and whisper to others, “I’m looking at a new car”. I wouldn’t dream of raising my voice above a barely audible whisper, lest the car in the driveway hear my scheming and fight back by busting a tie rod or something.

I’m looking forward to getting the Acura back tomorrow night, new windshield in place and surrounding trucks with flying rocks be damned. It’s very difficult for a parent to be separated from their baby for the first time.