Every year at this time we tend to get a little crazy. Maybe it’s the residual antsy-ness from school, or the delayed effects of a long winter of cabin fever, or just simple revelry in the sun and warmth. It makes you want to get into the car, roll down the windows, and burn some rubber. So that’s what my brother and husband did in this ’69 Pontiac GTO, while I clung to the backseat, hanging on for dear life.
Suffice to say, once around the block was more than enough for me.
