This past weekend my younger daughter turned 21 and during a brief lull between morning Mimosas and evening Margaritas, she surprised me by wanting to come along for my weekly exercising of the Alfa. Yes, I’m being a good boy and running the car each week.
So, the two of us are happily motoring along to the steady purr of two cams, accompanied by dual Webers, when my daughter casually looks down and innocently asks, “What’s that pedal in the middle?” Of course, my gentle, fatherly reply was, “You’re f-ing kidding, right?” Apparently, she wasn’t. “Ah…that’s the brake,” I replied awkwardly.
