Auto-Biographical?

I'm exactly halfway through my sixty-ninth year on this orb, as of today. 

Proving that the universe does have a sense of humor, I'm also slated for my annual physical later this morning. Why now as opposed to in April, which is my actual month of birth is a mystery to me and as I understand the various attempts at explanation from my health insurance carrier's representatives before they trail off into silence on the phone, it's basically because they can...

I would characterize myself as a gearhead in terms of cars for most of my time here on earth though I would also confess to having ZERO mechanical aptitudes at all. Coming of age in the late Sixties, my first car was a 1961 Corvair Monza, which demonstrates all the absence of mechanical and technical ability I should ever need to provide except the next car I owned, and (come to think of it), the only new car in my entire life, was a 1971 Ford Pinto. Herr Ober, check, please. Ich möchte bitte bezahlen.

Despite, or perhaps because of that, I will still insist that I love cars. Motorcycles and trucks, on the other hand, from not so much to not at all, but cars, yes, please, and two scoops. Probably why I devoured this article. 

And today, I should remind myself, is as good a day as any to still want to drive a Deora, at least once. Unless, of course....
-bill kenny