What the Well-Read Like to Drive: Speed. My Girlfiend. Las Vegas Motor Speedway.
thereadingwell
12-11-2011, 07:40 AM
So why does a chicken coop only have two doors?
Because if it had four, it’d be a chicken sedan!
My first coupe had two doors, a 1966 Ford Mustang. I installed a blue pillow between the bucket seats in the front so my girlfiend at the time could sit next to me. We’d haul off to Third Street with my friends David and Bob and did the loop between the Sonic and the funeral home. Honks and squealing tires galore. A visit to the Pizza Inn after a Friday night football game, while they still let we miscreants in.
You can read some of my other posts at thereadingwell.com.
https://profiles.google.com/104568074101127085823/about/edit/d#104568074101127085823/about I raced the Mustang on 50 Highway, putting it to the test, my 289cc versus a 1970 302. I won. Superior drivers make superior cars. It got 16 miles to the gallon, highway. On 50 Highway that day? Maybe three.
“Ego amor ut accelero!” I’d cry in badly composed Latin. I love speed!
By the way, you can have all the speed your heart can handle in Las Vegas, at Exotics Racing, from five laps in a Ferrari F430 F1 for $299 to 20 laps in a Lamborghini LP640 for $1449. Top speeds for the Ferrari and Lamborghini are 196 and 211 mph, respectively.
For the faint of heart, you can drive a NASCAR-style ride at Richard Petty’sDriving Experience at the Las Vegas Motor Speedway. Alas, they only having driving speeds in excess of 150 mph.
Two odd racing fans are attributed with the title “NASCAR.” Walking the stock car yards in the early 80s, they saw Richard Petty’s Number 43, and one exclaimed in their southeastern drawl, “Nas car!” Turning to his friend, the other repeated, “Yeah, nas car!” The moniker stuck.
My girlfiend was a year ahead of me, so she went to school in her brown Dodge Dart, leaving me holding the bag as a senior in high school. I naturally became attracted to other girls, even driving my dad’s 1972 Olds 98 to the girl’s state basketball championship. Dave and Bob and I ended up being the escorts for the girl’s cheerleading team, eight of us in a six-passenger car. Tight quarters, thankfully. I put my new-found prowess to the test and succeeded at many kisses. When we returned to school, I asked Edna out, but she said no, I was too smart for her. That hasn’t ever happened again.
Because if it had four, it’d be a chicken sedan!
My first coupe had two doors, a 1966 Ford Mustang. I installed a blue pillow between the bucket seats in the front so my girlfiend at the time could sit next to me. We’d haul off to Third Street with my friends David and Bob and did the loop between the Sonic and the funeral home. Honks and squealing tires galore. A visit to the Pizza Inn after a Friday night football game, while they still let we miscreants in.
You can read some of my other posts at thereadingwell.com.
https://profiles.google.com/104568074101127085823/about/edit/d#104568074101127085823/about I raced the Mustang on 50 Highway, putting it to the test, my 289cc versus a 1970 302. I won. Superior drivers make superior cars. It got 16 miles to the gallon, highway. On 50 Highway that day? Maybe three.
“Ego amor ut accelero!” I’d cry in badly composed Latin. I love speed!
By the way, you can have all the speed your heart can handle in Las Vegas, at Exotics Racing, from five laps in a Ferrari F430 F1 for $299 to 20 laps in a Lamborghini LP640 for $1449. Top speeds for the Ferrari and Lamborghini are 196 and 211 mph, respectively.
For the faint of heart, you can drive a NASCAR-style ride at Richard Petty’sDriving Experience at the Las Vegas Motor Speedway. Alas, they only having driving speeds in excess of 150 mph.
Two odd racing fans are attributed with the title “NASCAR.” Walking the stock car yards in the early 80s, they saw Richard Petty’s Number 43, and one exclaimed in their southeastern drawl, “Nas car!” Turning to his friend, the other repeated, “Yeah, nas car!” The moniker stuck.
My girlfiend was a year ahead of me, so she went to school in her brown Dodge Dart, leaving me holding the bag as a senior in high school. I naturally became attracted to other girls, even driving my dad’s 1972 Olds 98 to the girl’s state basketball championship. Dave and Bob and I ended up being the escorts for the girl’s cheerleading team, eight of us in a six-passenger car. Tight quarters, thankfully. I put my new-found prowess to the test and succeeded at many kisses. When we returned to school, I asked Edna out, but she said no, I was too smart for her. That hasn’t ever happened again.
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