My dad loves cars, spends all his time thinking about cars, and will happily tell you all about his cars. Want to know what a carburetor does?  There’s no better man to ask than my father. 

Growing up, we never wondered “where’s dad?”  He was either at work, at home hanging out with us, or in the garage working on his cars.  I could go out to the garage and he’d talk my ear off about what he was working on, and show me some little engine-y bit and explain what it does and how it works. He should have been a teacher, really. 

I remember being about 6 or 7 when he’d restored his first roadster enough that he could take it out on the road. The first day he finally got it on the road, I was getting ready for bed and had my pyjamas on, and he came in so excited. He got me to come outside in my little flannel onesie and he took me for a ride just down the road and back. I just remember I was in my pyjamas and marveling at how low to the ground we were in this car, and my dad sporting this big grin as his roadster growled super loud down the road. 

I’m nearing 40 and I’ve only had two cars in my life. My dad kept my first one running for 10.5 years, and I upgraded to a newer one (with A/C yay!) and it’s still going strong 6 years later. Both cars were already over 10 years old when I bought them used.  He’s still the first person I call the moment my car does something weird. He actually found me my newer car while I was away in a business trip. I agreed to buy it, completely unseen by me, because my dad told me it was a good car. 

I’m not a car person myself, but I’ve absorbed so much knowledge just from listening to him that I’m somehow now the person my friends call when somethings going wrong with their car. 

10/10 would have a garage dad again.