Hundred-some cars in a country club parking lot, and the one I couldn't walk away from was a black and gold Trans Am. Not the one you're thinking of, this one was modern. Did I miss the memo on the Trans Am making a comeback? I got close enough to fall in love, then close enough to realize it wasn't a Trans Am at all. It was a Camaro. Somebody had rebuilt the front end, the tail, a dozen little details, and turned it into the Trans Am it always wanted to be. I was floored. Still my favourite car there.

My brother texted Sunday night about a Cars and Coffee up at Mont Hill Golf & Country Club, 20 minutes from us. Kiki loves these, so we went. What I figured out walking the rows is that the McLarens and the Ferraris and the Lambos do nothing for me anymore. I see them all the time. The ones that got me were the DeLoreans, a Lotus Esprit, a couple of Corvette Stingrays, a pair of Ferrari 355s, classics mid-restoration. Cars you don't see anymore, driven by people who clearly love them. You can tell. That's the whole thing.

Kiki went the other way completely. He was loving all the new cars. I was loving all the old ones. I've turned into that middle-aged guy who goes on and on about the classics and how they don't make them like this anymore. Just the other day I yelled at a couple of kids for riding their scooters too fast through the intersection. Ugh.

Then he found the race simulator. He'd watched me drive one before, riding shotgun and changing the gears while I steered. This was the first time he got to drive it himself, which is about as close to the real thing as an eight-year-old gets. He was in that seat a solid twenty minutes before I had to pry him out so the other kids could have a turn. If he wasn't confident before, now he's sure he can drive a real car.

And it was almost all kids. The place was ninety percent men, and the ones who brought somebody brought their son. A few guys had their wives along, but not many. It read like a boys club nobody officially started. Just a parking lot full of dads and their kids, coffee in hand, walking it like a museum.

This one we'll keep doing. I'll get more notice next time and put it in the calendar so you can come too.

Neeks

Dads corner

These Feet Were Made for Limping

Last year a buddy signed up for a race in Burlington and I said I'd come run alongside him. Moral support, no bib, no fee. When I got there and saw it was for charity, standing on the course for free felt cheap, so I paid in on the spot. Then he walked half of it. I wanted to run. I stayed with him instead, and told myself that next year I'd actually run the thing.

Fast forward to this year. I registered, and this time we signed the kids up too. I did the 5K, the boys did the 1K. July 1, sweltering. I'd practised the route a few times and my best was 28 minutes, so I was chasing sub-30. Showed up with a sore ankle and ran anyway, which is its own kind of stupid.

What I never accounted for was traffic. Running solo you find a pace and hold it. In a crowd you're surging past someone, then braking, then surging again. My ankle did not enjoy this. I crossed the line limping, and there was my son at the rail, cheering me in. It's funny. How many times has he asked me to come watch him play a sport? This time he watched me. Seeing him there as I ran past gave me a boost, and for a moment our roles reversed.

That's the thing about these. He can't run how I run, but he's out there running his own race. Together but separate. He already wants to do the 3K next year. I'll be back for the 5K, chasing a better number.

VR Pro runs these all year, all over Ontario, not just Canada Day. Themed 1K/3K/5K/10K races with kid distances built in, easy to sign up as a family.

VR Pro races: vrpro.ca/races