A week in and I’m already a little behind, trying to put the finishing touches on The 2015 100 while a major project at the 9-5 threatens to encroach on my personal time and is making the juggling act harder than ever. Sarah sees me at it nightly, piles of notes strewn about the desk as I struggle to mould it all into coherent thought, slowly shaping into the kind of posts I love writing. It’s taxing work, but ultimately worth it to look back later, proud of what I put down on paper.
However, though my life’s currently mired in 7-hour meetings and documentation that just won’t quit, my first week of 2015’s been pretty decent, opened with some excellent brunches and promising new relationships and opportunities for the year ahead.
But in these first 7 days, one of the most amazing things to happen was finding a new appreciation for a sport I never much followed before — hockey.
As I stood outside, chipping away at our icy walkway with a spade borrowed from our in-laws (because remember, our garage is still frozen shut from the ice storms), I suddenly recalled that February started with a surprise visit from my parents.
Having missed out on seeing DoomzToo for the entire month of January, they came to Casa de Palmer to see a scruffy Casey Palmer in his house clothes, a relaxing weekend planned with his family and sister-in-law, who was visiting from Ottawa.
Lesson learned—always dress like you’re ready for anything.
Regardless, another month’s come and gone, much of it spent seeking refuge from the harsh Canadian winters we face each February. Many of my Canadian peers likely read this with disdain—after all, what does Toronto know about the cold?—but while we don’t share the massive snowfalls or the extensive swaths of black ice you endure while commuting to your destinations, we too know freezing winds that chill you to the bone. We too know the misery of days all too short, sun blotted out by snow, hail and all manner of projectile falling from above to ruin our days.
One way or another, soon I’ll see myself behind the wheel of a car. Driving isn’t something I’ve much bothered with, but as I get older and the responsibilities increase, leaving my fate in the hands of others becomes less of an option.
That in mind, it’s good to start looking around at what the automotive world has to offer—even when it’s something that I have no right to dream of owning.
Like a Corvette.
The Corvette: More Than JUST a Car
Definitely a sweet ride, the Corvette is what you buy yourself by your mid-life crisis—at the very least—after years of toiling away and buying a little something to reward yourself. It’s the car you’re not old enough to afford, but really wish that you were.
Wednesday, February 13th inexplicably found me in the company of parties far more knowledgeable on cars than myself, such as car enthusiasts Christine Pantazis and her husband Bobby, my buddy Rami and many others who I didn’t know, but could tell that they were well-versed in the automotive industry from what I’d overhear in their conversations.
The demographic at the event definitely reflected this. I’m used to tweetups and events where I know everyone when I walk in the door, but this time I rubbed elbows with a demographic completely alien to me. A demographic with the means and burning need to own a metal representation of the success they got over the years. Perhaps something like… the 2014 Corvette Stingray?
The 2014 Corvette Stingray
Cars were never my chosen form of self-expression. While friends would be playing racing games, salivating over the latest models and giving money hand over first to make their high school rides as custom as possible, I read comics. Or volunteered. Or built websites. I wanted to create things and change the world — I never wanted to be driving around in a convertible, letting the wind whip through my hair.
But after seeing a car like this—I kind of want to.
While you won’t see me posing with it, the 2014 Corvette Stingray looked pretty sweet—the kind of car that’d turn heads as it drove by. The event itself was pretty calm—a close look at the tools needed to put a Corvette together, enough food and drink to keep anyone satisfied (if it weren’t a school night, I’d have drunk Stingrays all night) and the promise of a shiny new car to look at afterwards.
So if you’re fortunate enough to have the means to get a Corvette, try it out and tell me what you think. I’m a ways off from getting one myself, but we can always dare to dream, can’t we?
Tell your wife, tell your kids, tell your husbands: