I remember when I turned 16, and my dad woke me up at dawn to show me my new Mustang.
I rode around with him for about 2 hours, zig-zagging through the scenic twists and turns of the Blue Ridge Parkway. We stopped at a convenience store, and my dad turned to me and with a twinkle in his eye said, "You're a man now. I'm so proud of you." He went into the store and brought out a six-pack of Sam Adams!
I really felt like my father ceased to be my father and became my friend on that day. We sat there, illegally guzzling three beers apiece, and took off down the old dusty road back home.
And that's when it happened... The most beautiful moment in all my life became the most terrifyingly horrific moment one could imagine.
I couldn't handle my beer. 3 beers and I was already sloshed. I swerved back and forth, wildly losing control of the steering wheel around a sharp, banking turn. A truck flew across the center line and smashed right into us, gnarled metal and broken glass flying by and cutting our faces in a slow-motion, almost out-of-body experience. My father was thrown from the car, and I was lucky enough to escape from the incident with nothing but a few broken ribs. I hobbled out of the mangled wreck that was to be my first car, weeping, praying to God my father was alright...
And as I approached his motionless body on the hot pavement... He looked me in the eyes and said... "You're movin' with you're auntie and uncle in Bel-Air."
I whistled for a cab and when it came near... The license plate said 'FRESH' and it had dice in the mirror.
Yes, friends... You just got Bel-Aired.
yes it is
