Recently I was stopped at a traffic light and the vehicle next to me seemed to want to challenge me as to who could get going the soonest when the light turned green.
Oh man, the memories that evoked. I have to tell you the story. Not too long after Tom and I were married, we ordered a new car. Was it just any car? Noooo. We were young and stupid and definitely not practical. It was a 1964 Plymouth Fury with a 383 cubic inch engine and a 4-on-the-floor transmission and that Baby could run, believe me.
I can't remember where I was working at that time, but every day when I was on my way home, I would encounter a young guy driving a Pontiac GTO and while I never knew the size of the engine in his car; it was hot, too. We would maneuver through traffic so we were always next to each other at every light. (We were on the by-pass which is now Coliseum Blvd.) I could beat him off the line every time and hold my lead until the last little way before the next light.
"Great. Did you beat him?" I asked.
"The good news is, I did beat him. Walked all over that Goat (GTO nickname).
The bad news is, I blew up the engine."
Chrysler replaced the engine because it was under warranty but we were without a second car for about a month.
Now the question: Was it worth it? In retrospect, considering the time without a car and the danger I was probably putting myself in, not to mention the cost of a huge fine if I was caught drag racing on a city street... NO, it wasn't. However, remembering the adrenaline rush of that racing...I might have to say, yes, it was.
Laugh out loud...literally.