I grew up in a motorhead family.

Ok, time for a Pa story.
Pa was a Ford guy. I heard a lot of stories about the flatheads he used to build from my uncles. That said, he loved horsepower more than a brand.. he never dissed GM or Mopar.. he just knew Fords better.
One day,I was 8 or 9, had to be 1973 or 74..I woke early on a Sunday morning.. 5 AM or so. Pa, as usual, is playing solitaire on the kitchen table, waiting to make breakfast. He was an over the road trucker.. sucked only seeing him on weekends. He waited about 20 minutes or so to see if anyone else was going to get up (remember, there at least 10 people in this house, not counting the friend stragglers crashed out.) Cooks us bacon and eggs, toast. Half hour later, nobody's waking up.. he says 'Want to go fishing?'.. that's a hard yes from me.. alone time with Pa was unheard of. "Go dig some worms up, and I'll get the truck ready!". Went and dug up some worms, he got the poles and tackle box (Pa had some awesome fishing gear).
Hop in the truck (big block Ford of course, auto trans). Pa.. '****. Run in the house and grab 4 beers and put them in a grocery bag'.
Get back in the truck. He checks the beers, all good. (Pabst)
Head out to the lake about 5 miles away. No boat, just fishing from shore.
Had a great time fishing.. as I said, alone time with Pa was unheard of. We caught a few, but too small, throw 'em back. He did teach me what a snapper turtle can do though that day.. I saw one.. he picked it up, showed me what a snapper can do to a stick... I said that he's mean. 'He's not being mean. That's how they survive'.
So, on the way home, it's about 11:30 AM. A bar on the way home.. 'let's stop for a quick one, catch the Packer game'. Those 4 beers he brought along were gone.
Watching the game, and treating the bartender to my ability to crush full size ice chunks with my teeth in one bite. Played a few game of pool with another kid in the bar.
About half time on the game, my brother Al shows up in the bar. He needs Pa's truck to haul something. They trade keys.. Al's car is a cherry red '68 Charger RT. 440 Mag, 4 speed, 3:55 sure grip.
Games done.. Pa's feeling good. Hops in Al's Charger.. tells me to sit down, and put on my seat belt.. unheard of in those days.
He starts the car. Lets it warm up a little while he's working the clutch, and figuring out the shifter.
Smokes the tires full bore backing out onto the road. Slams it into first...smoke was choking me at this point. Hit second gear, faster and smoother than I've ever seen any of my brothers do that.. smokes second gear. Slams 3rd gear.. again, faster and smoother than I've seen any of my brothers do, and I saw a lot. Gets a good chip going into 3rd. Was pissed he couldn't get a chirp going into 4th.. tried several times.
I realized somewhere through this that:
1: Pa is a bigger motorhead than any of my brothers.
2: He literally shifts with a clutch about 8000 times a week.

We get back into town.. pulls up next to a '67 Camaro at the lights.. "concretes not gonna give us much traction".. leaves it 2nd gear, smokes the Camaro...me hanging out he window laughing at the guy. His girlfriend was laughing too, lol.
Pa screwed up though.. smoked the tires going into the driveway for one last fun time. Mom was all over his ***.. 'you driving like that with a kid in the car! '.. I realized at that point, Mom knew Pa was a horsepower lover. They got over it.. She loved a fast car too . :)