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Yesterday was such a beautiful day that I got the Mustang out of the garage.  The high performance tires are not meant for winter weather, so it’s been tucked away for months.  Charles said, he wouldn’t drive those tires on ice and snow, when he says that, I know my driving skills are not yet up to it.  We’re getting winter tires and rims for next year so the Foose will not have to sit forlornly for so long, but yesterday I took the car, high performance tires and all, out.  This had been made possible by Jon changing out the battery, and other things, with frequent phone calls to Charles.  I drove us to our allergist.  I drove it to my favorite metaphysical shop. Where I ran into one of the men that Charles calls to ask car questions of, himself.  His GT was parked next to my Foose, and they were both shiny enough to reflect the world in; no we don’t love our cars.  His fiance wandered the store while we talked cars, and shared friends.  He started the conversation off with the comment that he was one of the reasons I had the Foose, because he got Charles back into cars.  I told him Top Gear had some level of blame, but I didn’t argue too hard. 

The engine on the Foose was still that throaty rumble.  I love the sound of it.  Jon and Charles have almost talked me into a supercharger, but first I have to hear the difference it makes in the engine.  Some of the modifications can make the engine higher pitched, and that would not work for me.  I like the deep, bass, growl of the Baby.  If we can make that bass deeper and the car faster; great.  If we can only make the Baby faster, but I don’t like the sound of the engine as well, then, no.  Either way, I want to get back into the habit of driving it before I let the guys mess with it.  Yes, I’ll help, it is my car, but you really don’t want me in charge of the mechanics, I love the car too much for that.  I can follow orders and do what I’m told with tools, but I prefer not to be taking the lead, not yet, I don’t know enough yet.

Driving the Baby yesterday counted as fun.  I drove her all day, three different trips out, and back.  She was handling a little rough in fourth gear, and I’d decided to contact Charles and see if he could come drive her and see what that shimmy was, then I was at a stop light.  The car beside me gunned it’s engine, as some people will when they pull up next to the Foose.  I did not reply, but when the light changed, I did.  I let the Foose, do what it does best, and we growled past them, until there was another light.  Another car, that wanted to try and keep up, and another car that couldn’t.  I probably got the car faster on that particular stretch of road than I ever had before, and the shimmy disappeared.  I swear it was like the car needed to stretch it’s legs, work the kinks out.  I’ve owned cars since I was sixteen, but I’ve never owned one so "alive" before.  She hates being passed by anything on the road, and seems to have a special dislike for Dodge Chargers.  I’ve promised her a trip onto the high way, so she can really stretch her legs.  She’s looking forward to it, and so am I.