Motor Law Be Damned

I am suddenly recalling that night in early October of last year. Nags Head, NC. Cruising down the main drag in Al's Jeep with Mike in the front seat and me in the back, following closely behind Al's friend Freck in his awesome 1970 Chevy Monte Carlo, with Joe as his co-pilot. Screaming down the highway at night with the stars in the sky and the wind wiping our hair, singing along with the guys to Rush's "Red Barchetta" on the radio at the top of our lungs, and nothing but salty sea air burning holes through my nostrils. Just the way I like it.

Looks like the third week of August this year. And maybe even more people showing up than last time. Perhaps even the entire core membership of the Sunday breakfast bunch. My goodness, drunken karaoke this year is going to be quite the pip.

Now I seriously need to find my good bathing suit.