People don’t know this about me, but I come from a family of academics. My father is a university professor of sociology and my mother is a poetess. All my life I‘ve been surrounded with people that loved discussing “deep” ideas or what have you, but I never really took interest in books and abstract discussions. It was simply not for me. There’s a saying that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, but not in my case. If my father is the tree, then I fell under and probably rolled far away from his shadow. Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents, but their life path was obviously not for me. People sometimes make fun of me saying that I am adopted, but if you look at my father, we are physically very alike. By the way, my parents are really supportive of my passion for cars, all they ask from me is to drive safely.
That’s not the only difference between us. For instance, I am a very practical person who always wants to have solutions to technical problems in the house or the garage. My father, for example, is technically illiterate. Every time there’s a problem in the house, my mother comes to me first, then I go to my father. Really funny dynamics. For instance, we had a problem with the water heater at home, and I was the one who made all the necessary research for the best solutions. My father is simply lost in this kind of situation. He just says yes to whatever we think is the best. In the end, we went with this solution.
It’s the same with their car, whenever they have a problem I’m the one they ask for help. I really don’t know where this love for mechanics came to me. Certainly not from my parents. I remember the first time I entered a garage full of equipment. The first thing I remember was the smell of oil. From that moment on, I was really interested in cars. Especially how they move and how they are assembled. Actually, the first time I was in a garage was with my father, so maybe, in the end, it’s his fault that I don’t like the philosophical debates.