The Disabled Guy's favorite classic car is a 1957 Chevrolet Bel Air. Barring that, he'd settle for a 1957 Chevrolet sedan. Or station wagon... basically, the '57 Chevy is his favorite classic car. He holds a few Chevelles and a Nova or two as favorites as well. But that '57 is it.
Today, I saw an old Mustang. I'm not sure how old, because I'm not much of a car guy (or a "guy" at all), but I thought it was cool because you just don't see this style of Mustang much anymore. And what followed was about to turn into the same tired and stupid discussion we have whenever I think a classic car is cool enough to point out.
|I only know it was a Mustang, because I read the word "Mustang" on the back.|
He replied: "Okay. Why?"
Me: "I thought it was cool. You don't see too many like this nowadays." (I said that twice, yes. Once to you, and then again. Because it's true!)
DG: "That's because the weather is rough for winter. Most of the classics are kept down South. No salt on the roads."
*sigh* That's what he always says no matter where we are or what the context is in seeing a classic car. Always the same argument. If you point out to him that there are classic cars all over the world, not just in the South, he reiterates that he said "Most" and not "all". So, if you point out that there's a classic car show every single year in the very town you live in, he doesn't care. That's a show. You don't see them on the road (which is not true- there are collectors everywhere who only drive their classics onto a trailer, off the trailer at the show, and then back onto it for the drive home).
So, this was my long text reply that probably got sent to his phone in three separate texts:
"Oh, God. No. I am not having THIS discussion again. 'BLAR! Salt on roads!'... 'Blerg! Salt in the air from the ocean!'... 'Classic cars in the South!'... 'Classic cars all over the country!' Blah, blah, blah! You're pretty, I'm pretty. Let's just say classic cars are cool and move on!"
And his reply to that was: "Did you just call me 'pretty'?"
Me: "Yes. We're both pretty. We don't need to argue about classic cars and the weather!" and I sent him a photo of our dog, Bruno, because he's adorable.
A couple hours later, I let him know our oldest daughter is graduating from college this month. I explained that she's not going to the ceremony (she has two jobs) and she never ordered the cap and gown, so it isn't like she can just change her mind and show up. Because I knew he was telling his parents about it, I texted her so I could tell him her exact graduate title. She's graduating with a "Bachelor of Science in Genetics". I asked her what her job title would be, in a general sense and told her I was texting her dad, who was in turn, telling the grandparents.
So, our daughter, Kathy, is a molecular biologist. Or, just simply- a scientist. And, in her words: "Overqualified for this bullshit job". (at the moment, she works in retail. One job is slightly connected to her science background, but still in retail- a pharmacy).
This, ladies and gentlemen, is what a molecular biologist looks like.
And this... this is what she looks like too.