“Go ahead, get on it a little”, he said as we pulled off the rotary onto the straightaway at the end of Old Westford Road. “Put the pedal down.”

This was when it was scary fast, before it got worn down from being driven so much. When that kick-down hit, it would pin you solid to back of your seat. I tentatively pressed my foot down, he urged me on. In a blink, the low V8 rumble snapped up two octaves, g-forces shoved me back, houses, trees, the high school field turned to blur.

Elated by the rush but scared as hell, I held on for dear life. He was laughing (possibly at me). With a whoop he yelled “Once a squirrel, always a squirrel!”