Warning: No poker content (not that I've had a lot of poker content lately anyway).
You may have heard that I bought a Ferrari. If not, well, I BOUGHT A FERRARI! There. Now you've heard.
If you click through to the actual blog, you'll see my "About Me," which includes this: "Just a humble poker-playing doctor with a Ferrari fetish and too much time on his hands."
I'm not kidding about that Ferrari fetish. Let me tell you how it all began.
In the Beginning
Like many of these stories, it started with my dad. He had his own business for many years and worked really hard to provide for us. He also was a big fan of all things ritzy. We'd be driving and he'd spot an exotic car and point it out to me. His knowledge of specifics on the individual cars was impressive, made more so in retrospect because these were the days before the internet. I remember there was a time when he left his business to work for his friend Bob at a garage. He brought me down one time and was all excited to show me a Rolls Royce that they were working on. We must have opened a closed the doors a half dozen times just to get an idea of how well it was made and how perfectly the door closed and fit. It wasn't long before I started pointing out the exotics even before he saw them.
The Fateful Breakfast
I'm 16 years old and Dad has just hired me to work as his assistant. On my first day, we head off to start with a good breakfast at IHOP. There in the parking lot were two Maseratis. This was before Chrysler took over and ruined the brand. I believe they were Meraks, but I could be wrong. All I know for sure is that they were low and sleek and I wanted one badly.
You remember the poster, don't you? I had one and it had the desired effect. Seriously.
When most kids wanted to grow up to be firemen or policemen or astronauts, I just wanted to be a doctor. I've always had an innate desire to help people. But deep inside, I also knew that is was the surest and most reliable way to make enough money to get the things I wanted. And first on that list was the Ferrari. It's always been first. It was never about a big house, or jewelry or anything else, really.
Many of you have already heard this story, but I'll tell it here again for posterity. In high school, I got a job a DaNino's Italian restaurant in Wappingers Falls, NY. They were all recent immigrants and spoke very little English. Instead of calling me Chuck, they called me Chako (you see where this is going, right?). One day, they asked if I intended to wash their dishes for the rest of my life. No, I said. I'm going to be a doctor one day. Well, they thought this was the funniest thing they ever heard. As a joke they started calling me Dr. Chako. As in, "Hey Dr. Chako. Go clean up the vomit be the cash register." I took it all in stride, but I also told them, "Just you wait. One day I'll come back here in a Ferrari with a personalized plate that says DRCHAKO." They just smiled at me and went about their business. It was a challenge.
And now it's here. A dream I had 30 years ago and a plan I put together over 25 years ago has finally come to fruition. I've heard that sometimes, when you build up something so big over so long, that there's a danger it might not live up to your expectations. That's a load of crap. This this is even better than I dreamed!
If you aren't already bored with my Ferrari ramblings, in future posts I want to tell you about my first real ride up through the hill country in Palo Alto, and I also want to revisit the other Ferraris I tried to buy that didn't quite make the cut. It was quite the learning experience.