I grew up dirt poor in a very wealthy suburban neighborhood, and I’m not just saying that. My mom was a single mother working as a nurse from 7–3 and 3–11. My dad lived in another state and didn’t believe he truly had to listen to the court regarding child support. I had to walk everywhere I wanted to go because nobody was around to give me a ride.

Luxury cars surrounded me and I always loved looking at them, sitting in them (friends’ parents), and I even memorized the way they sounded. At one point in my teens, I could ‘Name that Car’ just from listening to its engine as it came up behind me.

Cars have always been pieces of art to me. My head still can be turned — not by a gorgeous man in excellent shape but the sound of a beautiful car coming my way.

Far more interesting internally than externally. I write to quiet the voices. Deleted Facebook & Twitter thereby immediately quieting 1000’s of voices.

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