YOU CAN COME ALONG - BUT STAY BEHIND ME
Forgive the poetic slant to this week's prose, but it all sort of struck me at once: The spring. The breeze. The sunset. All of that caught up to me last week, as I followed Godzilla to Columbus, Ohio.
I was piloting Jo's portly white Volkswagen Routan behind a very special car. A supercar if ever I saw one. A foreign devil, with a decidedly America twist. A Switzer-modified R35 GTR Nissan, ripping along the highway at full song.
Dubbed "Godzilla" by the foreign press, this particular example of R35 was angry and loaded up on power. I followed its taillight signature like a meddling kid after a mystery, mesmerized by its speed and the setting sun across its "super-silver" flanks.
The GTR blipped and barked now and then, passing lesser cars (and they are all lesser cars) effortlessly with a faint puff of smoke and a malevolent whine from the turbos. The car rushed ahead like it beheld some secret to happiness, and I was left behind in its wake - left alone in the quiet VW to notice the full-blown greenness of Spring that I'd forgotten after all of these months of Ohio winter.
The van hustled to keep up, whipping past rust-colored barns, a yellow horse statue (!?), and a sign that said "hidden drives". Even as far back as I was, I barely missed the fact that my radio wasn't on. It was enough to listen to the hum coming from the GTR and hear the swoosh of the blurred road.
LIKE THAT
I laughed at the sight of the GTR passing a Mennonite horse. The horse turned its head to watch the car's passing with a sort of inter-species "right on, brutha!" nod.
The car reached its new home after two too brief hours, and nestled into its new garage home alongside another supercar if I ever saw one. Its owner beaming like a little kid. I knew what he looked like at five years old on Christmas morning, I think. With a car like that in the stable, I think I'd look the same.
No comments:
Post a Comment