Lazy day
Today, my dad and I were supposed to take his beloved fourth child, Vega, to have its new hood painted.
The guy who was supposed to paint it for him flaked out on him.
Dad took the day off, so that part was wasted.
What wasn’t wasted was good father-daughter time.
We took the Vega out for a drive. I miss the smell of the high-octane exhaust pumping out. I miss all the people in town craning their necks around to stare at that wonderful, tempermental machine as we drive past. I miss the heavy purr of the car. I miss the burnouts.
It was awesome. He took it out on the highway and gunned it a couple of times. He did grin a bit as I requested a burnout and complied as we got home. He complained it was a weak sort of burnout, and I sorta egged him on to do it again, but he didn’t.
Many years ago, on Good Friday, and I think my dad’s birthday, my brother and I egged him on to do a burnout, just a little bit from home. Then I told him to do another. And then another. The third one burned out his rear end.
We still talk about it, joke about it. I brought it up today.
So when I egged him on to do just one more today, he declined. And I laughed, and understood.
I love that car. It formed such a big part of my childhood that it really is another part of the family. A high-maintenance, sort of unpredictable beast. But I love it. I miss it.
Dad and I also went to a restaurant and had a good nice meal, that was probably $15 cheaper than if we’d eaten the same meal in Fresno.
I miss that. I keep noticing the prices out here, even milk, and sometimes wonder if it isn’t better here.
No mountains. No ocean. No mild winters with rain only.
But the air here is fresh. And it was so lovely today. A few clouds in the sky with a slight breeze. Just perfect. Not too hot. Not too cold.
Everything just the way I remember it, and like it.
Even down to the pizza. Dad made his special homemade pizza as a cap to a perfect day.
I know things wouldn’t be so perfect if I was here all the time, but I’m glad I have the ability to appreciate it now. Sometimes you don’t know how much you love something, someone, or someplace, until you’ve been apart for too long.
lol, is that how dad burned out that rear-end? i chucked out loud at the thought of us asking him to do several burnouts. i do remember him pushing the car, though, dat shits funny