Drifting...

Drifting...Drift racing... kind of like my mind... fast, high, smooth, complicated...

I've always wanted to learn how to drift but never had the guts to do it... Fear got the best of me, and to this day, I still regret it....Maybe there is still time...I truly hope so...

I remember when I was 13; first time I drove a car... one hell of a car; Papa's Alfa Romeo... We were cruising up the hilly roads of Beit Meri, with no reservations, just living the moment...Papa parks on the side of the road... I look out the window and see the beautiful coast of Beirut from the cliff, and smile. He takes the key out of the car, and tells me "Khidi"... in translation means "take". I looked at him smiling, thinking to myself that this was the luckiest day of life.

I got in the driver's seat; adjusted the side, and back mirrors, shift on neutral, foot on the clutch... (oh, what a clutch... tough as rubber, like most sports cars)... started the engine, and felt the power, which I hate to admit, was scary at the time. Fear is something I do not care and refuse to get along with...Papa told me to take a deep breath, and to follow exactly what he says... That I did, and 10 minutes in, I felt like I was on air... 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th……nothing mattered but the moment... Papa was laughing with such joy, and I felt like I was on top of the world, not only because I was driving, but because of the trust papa had in me; more trust than I had in myself...From that point on, papa knew I had a knack for cars, as did he. He taught me all I need to know about controlling a vehicle; making it yours; fully owning it regardless of toque, or horse power....

I took papa's Benz S500 out for a spin today around the hills, and all that went through my mind was the day I was 13... The moment I felt two unforgettable things: 1) the phenomenon of controlling a car, and 2) my papa's unconditional trust...