Camero's and teenagers.

Found out last night, that my friend, Alphonso, bought an orange and black Camero like the one I bought on Wednesday, last Monday. How deep does, "Being a, Murray Guy" go?

He got the six cylinder engine (the muscle car without the muscle, I was kidding him) but it's going to be his, "Daily Driver" so he was worried about the gas mileage. I'm worried about not being able to drive this rear wheel drive, rocket when it snows, but I guess with him? Not so much.

He brought it over today, with an old friend I haven't seen in 20+ years, John Vogan. John's been a helicopter pilot since we graduated from high school. He's flown everything, for everybody all over the world. He's leaving in a few days to fly for the company that used to be, Blackwater, in Afghanistan. I hope I see him again. We sat in the back yard, and talked, enjoyed some whiskey and a cigar. It was good to see him.

My son and his buddy, Jaden came home, and from the look on his face as he walked through the back yard, it told me he thought the Camero in the driveway was mine. I've been talking about muscle cars for a few weeks. When I said to him, "How'd you like, Al's Camero out there?" his face dropped. "You didn't buy one?"

"No."

"Dad! You HAVE to buy this car! It is SO cool!"

"Why? You can't drive it. And if I did, your mother won't let you drive it even when you have a driver's license?"

"Yeah, but you can drive ME around IN it!"

Touche'. He just wants one around the house. I'm ok with that. I pick mine up on Monday. Big assed V8, rumbely exhaust. I'm going to tell him on Monday morning that I'm picking him up from school to go get some new Under Armour since he's outgrown last fall's stuff, and soccer season starts next week. He's going to be surprised.