At the Alive at Five summer concert series at Monument Square I looked to my left and saw this cutie checking out my camera. She wasn't too intent on keeping up with the lively conversation her dad was having. It got me thinking about special times with Dad. There were lots of secretive moments, away from the rest of the world. I'm sure we all have many from our childhood. Two come to mind today, both involving cars. The first was when we were living on Washington Avenue, at the foot of Canco Road. Heading home on darkened Canco, he'd let me slide over on his lap and help steer the old Chevy. It was a treat to flick on the high beam. The red light looked like a kidney bean, so I'd call it the 'high bean'. The other was getting to fly down Stevens Avenue on an errand, probably to the Quality Shop, in his maroon Jag. We would open all the windows and just let the wind rattle our brains. The Jaguar was so heavy and fast. I'd imagine, like an ocean liner at sea, going full knots, it would take us a long time to slow to a stop. Hey, what did a kid know. It was just time with Dad and that was golden, shinning like this child's hair in the afternoon sun.