start your engines

yesterday during the inauguration parade something struck me familiar. the pace of the cars. it was like my dad was driving. my dad drives so slow at times his car has been known to stall. because that's what happens when you just let the car idle down the road. and never press on the gas pedal. this brought back a slurry of memories of growing up with my dad. there was the constant honking. sometimes in combination with yelling honk if you love jesus. honking while yelling jesus to jesus for a double play. and the friendly toot of the horn yelling hi jake. no, we didn't know any person named jake. nor was there anyone even walking down the street or outside of their house for that matter. another favorite was honking the horn just as you walked in front of the car. nice touch, bill. and there was always the stopping a young kid on a bike, or walking, and asking where a certain street was in town. it was the street that they were on. and most times they didn't have a clue. then there was the process of actually getting in the car. walking up to the car, reaching for the handle only to find the car had inched up. repeat. repeat again. well, you get the picture. my dad had one sweet ride when we were growing up. a '79 coupe de ville. we called her big red. man, i would love to have her back. she was bright, shiny red with a white top. white leather interior. 8 track. it was like riding in a football field. it also had something that we had never had before. power windows. power windows were invented for my dad. i have no doubt. you see, my dad was the first elvis impersonator. ever. to this day, i am not sure why the neighborhood kids still came down for a ride to school day after day. seriously. after all the kids loaded up in the car my dad would take off at a turtle's pace and start singing. opera style. with the windows down. fall. winter. spring. summer. now i am not sure why the police were never called. the world was just in a different place back then i guess. i am sure more than one person thought he was absolutely, without a doubt, certifiable. because by the time he backed out of the driveway all of us kids were crouched so far down in the seat you couldn't even see us. maybe just the tops of our hats. so, when big red finally pulled up to the curb about lunchtime in front of siebert elementary it was like my dad had a clown car. all of these kids would come flying out of the car and make a beeline towards school. it's no wonder our principal, mr. bath, thought we were so eager to learn. he had no idea what went on in that car. and yes, my dad continues with most of these antics to this day.