In the early spring of 1974, I saw a 1962 MGB for sale in the paper. I went up and took a look at it and it was in rough shape. It ran well enough but was in need of a lot of TLC. I wanted to get it home but my little Austin wouldn’t tow it from Georgetown to Mississauga. I called my Dad to see if he could give me a hand and he told me how foolish I was to by an old piece of junk like that. He still agreed to help me though. We went to rent a bumper hitch and when we found out it would cost more than I had paid for the car, Dad came up with a new plan. We would tow the car with a cable, all the way from Georgetown, about 25 miles, in the rain, with me in the MG steering and braking. What could go wrong? It took us about two hours but we got it back to my apartment. We decided to start it up and Dad took it for a spin around the parking lot. He had a grin from ear to ear and kept driving around and around. He told me it needed a lot of work but said it was going to be fun to drive. Things happened that year and I ended up losing the car but I told Dad that someday I’d get another one and let him drive it. I took seventeen years but I finally found another MGB. The first thing I did was call Dad and tell him. I drove down to his place and let him take it for a spin. The grin was the same as I remembered and he told me I could leave it with him and take his Taurus instead. He looked quite happy sitting in the MG with his big cigar. He even managed to find a flat top to match mine so we looked cool cruising around Fort Erie. It was one of my favourite days with Dad. Happy father’s Day Dad. I miss you so much especially today.