Tree branch shadows roll over the windshield like some kind of memory flood. Sun beams warmth on the scene. The low V8 rumble eases discontent. Some forlorn classic rock jam (Neil Young maybe?) flows from the radio adding dull luster to the mood.

Rolling through the scenic route, windows down, music on, world blurring by. Images fade in, whispering dreams of moments past, a fond slide show. The solo reaches the two minute mark. I press the pedal to the floor and think, "Damn I wish you were here for this Dad".

Today he would've turned seventy. Note to self: buy some Neil Young records.

Notes:
Drove the Mustang to work today. Took the scenic route. Had to.

The photo is Dad at the dragstrip in Sanford Maine sometime around the early sixties. He had the picture hanging up in his home office forever. When I was little I thought it was the coolest picture ever. I still do. Click for the full image.