I promised myself that I wouldn't be that guy-because I really hate that guy. That guy who gets a new project car or part and proceeds to lay out the specs in excruciating detail whether you asked for them or not. Yes, we are all excited that your Volks are cold-forged and it made us squeal with glee to learn that your new turbo rocks ceramic bearings. Let's face it, people who volunteer information for the sole purpose of justifying their self-worth are even more chaffing than a Justin Timberlake video. And yet, here I am against what little good judgment I have trying to bring sexy back.
If you'll indulge me I want to tell you about my new baby-it's a new baby! That's right, this Nadsy's a dadsy. And even better than Dirk Diggler's Vette that was nosed, racked, with dual cams and ten coats of hand gloss, candy apple red lacquer, my bad boy dropped on Sunday, October 15 at 8:46 AM weighing in at a very manly 7 pounds, 13 ounces and standing at a whopping 21 inches.
Unlike any of my project cars, this was an easy one to complete. I didn't even have to go to Malawi. I had a sexy explosion and nine months later Michael arrived. This was even simpler than smoothing out the fuel curve on my RSX, although Mrs. Nads may beg to differ, what with her toughing it out through an entire pregnancy and delivery.
My little Michael even acts like a project car with all the requisite glitches and maintenance issues. We learned this the hard way when only eight days into his life we had to rush him to the hospital. It seems my boy has SVT which-much to my chagrin-has nothing to do with a special vehicle team of any sort. No, SVT stands for supraventricular tachycardia which isn't nearly as bad as it sounds. It just means that his heart will sometimes rev up way too fast but the proper medication will regulate his pulse rate and he should be completely fine in six months time.
This is perfect timing because he needs to continue his development as the Most Gifted Child Ever. I'm sure other parents will be quick to disagree with me but they're wrong, my baby is better. There's a certain je ne sais quoi about his demeanor that suggests the making of an F1 Champion. Or it could just be gas.
Sorry, I need to check myself and take a page from Team Fred's playbook. He built his RSX into a cover car-twice. And yet he doesn't cloak himself with that avant garde artistic pompousness that plagues many of today's celebrituners. I should be so lucky to have a son with this sort of skill set and soft-spoken humility. What am I saying? My boy is gonna wreck shop on Fred. I just hope he gets his mechanical aptitude from his mother and not me. -John Naderinads@superstreetonline.com