2003.09.15 Feeling Understood
So, I've recently had a birthday. Not any special number or anything, but it turned out to be my
BEST BIRTHDAY EVER
S first arranged for our friend Travis Brandt to take me up flying in THIS Varga:
It's a tiny, twitchy two seater that popped into the air like a cork out of a champagne bottle. After being tossed around by some turbulence and buzzing around a bit, Travis let me take the controls. It was almost too much fun to describe. It will be very difficult to resist getting my pilot's license soon.
But that's not all. Later that afternoon, S lead me out to the local Ferrari Dealership. Somehow, she had convinced one of the salesmen there to take me out in a Ferrari 360 Modena... and to give me a taste for what it could do.
File:Batch026-ferrarimodena-front.jpg
The salesman started by rambling on about the cars stats, as he eased it out onto the road. Around the corner he flicked the F1 shift lever to pop it into second gear, and gave the throttle a hearty squeeze. To my delight, the engine sang like only a Ferrari engine can vocalize, and I nearly split my face in two with my grinning. The salesman, after reigning the Ferrari back in, explained that he would not really recommend doing that in first gear - the traction control has difficulty keeping the back end civilized.
I asked some inane questions, and was generally overhappy. The salesman hushed me by saying, "hang on". We burbled around a corner leading to a freeway on-ramp, doing perhaps 30 km/h in second gear. He dropped the hammer. The engine grunted, then yowled, and I was imbedded in the back of the seat. There was a CLUNK as the salesman tripped it into third gear, and the yowling was renewed. This time there was an odd sympathetic disharmony with it. Oh, wait, that was me. Screaming. We were doing about 160 km/h, in third gear, a symphony of distilled hell right behind me, a very imposing corner hurdling at us, and my viscera presumeably back on one of the curbs looking to catch a bus. The salesman clamped on the brakes, throwing me hard into my seatbelt, just before throwing us round the corner at what was still Ludicrous Speed™. The Ferrari completed the corner with an air of "That was easy. Can I have another?"
With a minimum of fanfare, the salesman cruised us back to the dealership. I wobbled out of the Modena, and was deliriously gibbering with happiness... I kind of still am.
Eventually, we went back home, and I ate the chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and chocolate ice cream.
You know, there's nothing like feeling understood to make one feel really good. Thank-you S.