Simpler times

My father had a 67 Fastback Mustang with a 390 engine that had been parked under an old post oak tree since we were kids. My older brother and I lived for stories of how fast it would go and how cool Dad was driving it, but when the price of gasoline got too high in the late 70's he put the beauty to pasture for a leaner more fuel efficient Datson.

At the ages of 12 and 13, we spent countless nights dreaming of the Mustang we would someday own. What color we would paint it, girls we pick up in it, and how fast it would go. We finally got our own 67 Mustang Coupe, and truth be told, we spent countless hours and almost every dollar we made just keeping it running. I often joke that we should have spent our money on new sneakers as we got more wear out them from pushing the Mustang than out of its tires.

Those were simpler times. Even as kids we were able to ask enough questions or get enough of our father's or uncle's time to figure out how to get her running. I currently manage several call centers for a large health care system in Minnesota. The parts all seem to move very fast and the rules of the game seem to change daily. I almost can't get enough data on a daily basis to stay up with the game, much less keep ahead of the competition.

The beauty of it is that's what I love. Dreaming of faster ponies, better paint jobs, someone to race.