Oh No!

After a huge blogging day like yesterday, it seems that whatever I write, will just not be able to compete with what I had written yesterday…I am sure many might be having the same feelings. It’s like we’re back to the old same daily grind. But I have readers now, 4 to be exact, FOUR, ARBI’A, IV, QUATTRO and although I am so excited, I need to come up with posts to keep them.

So what do I write about today…I could write about the toilet seat lady or the governor of NY, but I am sure you have already heard about them. And what more could I add other than to say that they are lunatics.

I just got a text message announcing the latest winner of an ongoing silly game between me and my brothers. It has been going on for about 6 years. Yeah, we are pathetic and some may same lame...but hey it's our thing...and keeps us together. So it all started on a road trip to Chicago. I have three brothers, two like me who are car fanatics, and the last one who could care less what we though about the SL 65 AMG, Lexus LS 460, Corvette Z06, or Hummer H2. But when the 3 car enthusiasts see a vehicle they like, the “ooooooooooooooooo’s and ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh’s” are non- stop. We salivate, we whistle, we yell, we high-five one another, we drive the non-car enthusiast (NCE) brother crazy. He has to threaten us with great bodily harm to get us to calm down or even lower our voices one decibel. He yells, “Don’ make me come back there” or “Don’t make me pull over” when we’re in the car….kinda like dad used to do when we would fight in the back seat when we were younger. The NCE is usually very calm and collected, but when the chatter about cars starts, he turns into the Incredible Hulk. But what can I say, we are nuts about cars and we don’t flinch with the threat of him turning green and attacking the three of us.

So where was I…..oh yeah, the road trip. As we traveled along the highway, every so often out heads would turn as someone would yell out that they noticed the Jag, the Lexus, the X5, and on and on. After a continuous 2 hours of this, NCE brother who happened to be driving went crazy on us. B-A-L-L-I-S-T-I-C He told us in some very nice words to quiet down. We pleaded with him, telling him we were addicts and were sick...and we just couldn’t help ourselves. I think he took pity on us, and said fine…but you can’t talk until you find a Cherry Red M3. For those who don’t know what a Cherry Red M3 is, allow me to explain. Cherry Red, is the color, bright red. And the M3 is no other than a Mercedes 325 on steroids and speed. It’s possibly one of the finest driving machines ever! So seeing no other way to continue pointing out hot cars on the road, we took the challenge and we held up our part of the bargain, well for the most part. A few times I would say “That’s not a Cherry Red M3, but that is one fine looking ~Ferrari, Accord, Jeep, etc.~ That whole weekend in Chicago, hours spent shopping on the Magnificent Mile, and the many hours driving home, we just couldn’t find the elusive Cherry Red M3. Then after a few months passed, and we all just happened to be together one day, when all of a sudden the little brother went crazy. Hollering, yelling, flapping his arms, and wouldn’t you know it, he finally located the Holy Grail…he found it…right there in the lane behind us to the right, a shiny Cherry Red M3.

So now when the phone announces that one of my brothers is calling…I don’t the assume the worst in the sense of a death in the family or hospitalization of our loved ones, but that I have to listen to him yelling and telling me that he just saw a Cherry Red M3. B-A-S-T-A-R-D No matter where in the world we are living or traveling and even NCE brother is in on it too. He’s found one once. And of all places, Chicago! Bastard x2!

So back to the text from today, there was some foul language it in, basically calling us out and saying looky looky what I found. I was in a meeting, but I read it and started smiling widely. Then I had to explain to everyone why…in front of almost 30 people. Good thing they are close friends as well. And so my brother R can claim the latest prize: bragging rights and taunts, until the next time we get “the” call or text. Here’s the proof: