My Car goes VROOOOM!!! (I wish...)

I cannot claim to be a gear head... At all. I mean I describe car parts in terms of "Ooooh! Shiny!" and "What does that thingy do?" . Going to the mechanic, the conversation would usually be:
"My car is broken!"
"Can you describe the problem?"
"Yeah... It does this weird thing that makes an angry vrooming noise instead of the other vrooming noise... Fix the thing with the stuff and do the thing because I want it to be all better..."
"Riiiiiiight... Okay... Please leave... Now... And don't come back... Ever..."
I appreciate the 60's and early 70's American muscle cars because... <DROOL!> Oh, sorry... I was having a moment. Uh... Well, I just don't think they make 'em like they used to.
Don't get me wrong, there are the newer cars out there that are putting out ridiculous speeds off the lot, but you can't "play" with them. Computers and chip things and you have to be some kind of computer engineer in order to change the oil! Okay, maybe not that bad, but still...
I always thought it would be cool for my boys to have a car that they'd be able to "work on" and rebuild it and stuff. It would give them a deeper appreciation for the car if they actually put blood, sweat and tears into it by fixing up a beat up (but cool and preferably GM) classic, maintaining it, caring for it, putting their own money into it... Can you imagine how carefully they would drive and how they would baby the car if they sank a whole buttload of time, work and money into it?
GOD FORBID the day they came home in one of those M.(ovie)I.(nspired)C.(osmetically)E.(nhanced)r's, or M.I.C.E.r better known as R.I.C.Er's. Slapping on a big stupid looking wing on the back, fart cannons, chromed out wheels and have it sound like a hairdryer in a microphone... (My lugnuts require more torque than your Honda makes!) I'm not talking about the ones that have actually PUT something into the engine. Some of them are pretty zippy. I am talking about the TRULY cosmetic ones that couldn't go over 90mph downhill... then off a cliff... with weights in the car.
Funny thing is, one day while driving around on the highway in my minivan, a R.I.C.E.r guy decided he wanted to "go". I beat him... Doing 65mph... in a minivan... I don't know what was more humiliating for him... Picking out the minivan to race with or getting beat by said minivan doing the speed limit or the fact that my kids were in the back pointing and laughing at him. It might be a combo of all of the above.
The poor minivan has since been repo'ed (the kids had dubbed her Big Blue), but I bet she still relives that moment in time or at the very least laughs about it. I know I do. Bacon, the new car, has yet to have to prove herself...