Rent a muscle car


Two men and a sports car
The boys and their ride, a brand new Dodge Challenger

Next weekend is Father’s Day. I knew I wanted to do something special for Dave and his Dad this year after losing Dave’s Mom to cancer in February. We all miss her terribly, no one more so than John who had been her loving partner for 59 years.

So I came up with the idea of renting a convertible or muscle car for the day. A brand new Dodge Challenger with racing stripes, a sweet engine and pimped out radio.

We kept it a surprise until we reached the rental car place in Kingston. There were grins all around after the big reveal.

We drove east along Highway 2 to Gananoque then along the Thousands Islands Parkway. The sun was shining, the breeze was warm and there were beautiful vistas of the river. Every once in awhile, Dave would put the pedal to the metal and let her rip. We stopped in Rockport to spend an hour on the water for a Thousand Islands River tour, had lunch on a patio, then continued east until Brockville before heading north back country past picturesque farms.

Everywhere we went, people would say “Sweet ride”. There was the requisite stop for ice cream in Seeley’s Bay (best ice cream shop ever, the Nest Egg, make it a stop) before we had to drop Clare off at a birthday party at 4 p.m. The only damper on the day besides cramped legs was Clare and me still feeling poorly after coming off a week of the stomach flu, but the boys had a grand time.

This week’s #HappyAct is to rent a muscle car for the day, or just plan a special memory for the men in your life in honour of Father’s Day. Next time: a convertible!

Blowing hair
Hazards of the ride
Three girls in the backseat of a car
Clare, clearly enjoying herself
four people eating ice cream
Having a scream (Kawartha Dairy of course) at the Nest Egg in Seeley’s Bay

Chow down on a big greasy breakfast

bacon and eggsThere are times when all you really need in life is a big ol’ plate of greasy food.

Last week, while waiting for my connecting flight in the Philadelphia airport, I dug into a heaping plate of eggs, bacon, home fries and rye toast. When you’re up at 4:30 in the morning, a big greasy breakfast really hits the spot.

A big breakfast is more than just a meal. It’s a cultural experience and has always been a big part of my life (I know that sounds funny so let me explain).

As a kid, I had a Sunday Sun paper route. After delivering all my papers, I’d crawl back into bed and would wake up to the smell of bacon frying through the house—a wonderful memory of my Mom. After my Mom passed away, my Dad, my brothers and I would go every Sunday to the Orchard Family Restaurant at Dundas and Highway 10 in Mississauga—still one of the best breakfasts around. In university days, Sunday greasy breakfasts became the culmination of a weekend of partying at my friends’ townhouse in Waterloo. Life is more sedate these days, and now my favourite big greasy breakfast (other than when I’m on the road) is camping trips with Dave and the girls.

This week’s #HappyAct is to chow down on a big greasy breakfast. Don’t count the calories; count the memories. What’s your favourite greasy spoon? Start a list by leaving a comment. If anyone knows of a good one in the Kingston area, let me know.