Wednesday, January 7, 2009

A Modified Illusion.


I-4s. V6s. PsI. SRT. SVT. Mugen. Nismo. What sounds like code and a foreign language rolled into one, is actually completely normal conversation for me on my Thursday nights all through high school. The roar of 400 horsepower Mustangs followed by the quiet "pshh" of the turbo valves of Hondas whose numbers came in to half of the formerly mentioned American muscle is something that to this day still makes me giddy. Especially when the whole world is represented in a parking lot. Nismo badges representing the Japanese soil where they come from, BMW holding up it's German roots, and even the occasional Dodge reminding everyone whose hosting this meeting of international force. This is the community of car customizers of the Tampa Bay Area of Florida, and more specifically, ModifiedIllusionz, the particular group my G35 and I belong to. Every Thursday night or so, I leave my quiet neighborhood to drive the 20 minutes to meet up with the rest of my group before we all drive, both in tandem and single-file, up the interstate to the meeting place where all the fastest, loudest, most original, and even, most beat-up cars, will come out tonight to attempt to secure a parking spot in the parking lot of Quaker Steak. (The irony of the name is obvious.) As usual, we arrive around 11p.m. The majority of the cars have already arrived, but we still see our usual spots left open across from the front door of the restaurant. The silver Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution9 pulls in first, 3-inch exhaust opening announcing its arrival. The Subaru AWD STi follows suit, slipping in to a spot right next to its media accepted rival. The luxuries follow after the powerhouses, my G35 and a white BMW 3-series accepting their positions to either side of the all-wheel drive cars. This is my family. In all of its turbo induced glory. Every week, this is what we do. We help each other become better. We help each other at times, become worse. But always, we do what we love. (Just, leave the nitrous at home. This is real life, not the movies.)

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