Going to Daytona on Friday - after a 5+ year absence.
Last time, we followed Miss America (named for her red/white/blue thong and her propensity for showing her stars at every opportunity) down Main St for about 30 minutes (2 blocks). I think the (wife inflicted) bruises on my right arm have finally healed. "Stop looking!" "I can't, I'm driving." "Look away, I'll tell you when traffic starts moving." "Wait, nevermind, they're naked over there too." "You don't care about the motorcycles." "Now I know why you wanted to come here." "We're never coming down here again!" The l - o - n - g silent ride home.
Maybe it's another sign of old age, but I'm really only hoping to see some Triumphs this year.
