Newtown CT

It's happened again.  Someone for what ever twisted reason decides to go and take innocent lives for something that they feel completely justified in doing so.  And young lives for that matter.

Whether it's purely hate driven or insanity of some sort, an individual has once again driven a lightening rod of absolute fear and despair into every one of us.  Proving that we are not completely safe in any place we are, and the next lost soul could be sitting right next to any one of us.  My apologies for the gloom and doom but am I not right?

What does a person capable of things like this really look like?  We can racially and socially profile all day and we'd most likely be totally wrong.  This shooter apparently was somewhat of a role model kid with good grades and what appeared to be a decent upbringing.  What in God's name possessed him to do something like this to a member of his own family and all those children?  We may never really know.

But this school shooting today has really got me upset.  More so than the Columbine shooting or the Aurora Theater slayings.  And I hate to sound so calloused when I make this remark but I don't know why.  Especially when it seems like every time you turn around something like this is happening in our society.

My heart goes out to the families involved, the staff at the school, and the first responders who had to arrive on scene to all of this chaos.  But most of all I just can't stop thinking about the parents who have lost children today.  And for what?

Tragedy never has a better time to present itself.  It always arrives unannounced and when you least expect it.  Very seldom do we see it coming and brace ourselves for it.  It lives by its own schedule and comes and goes as it pleases.

But with Christmas being right around the corner it makes this all that much more disheartening.  In many households this year, and probably close to forever now, the holidays may never bring the joy they once knew.

So here I am faced with the question as to why this is affecting me so profoundly today.  Is it because it's that time of the season?  Or is it the fact that I've had my share of seeing how people react when you tell them a loved one has died.  And I know plenty of them have just had that talk or are about to.

It's hard to imagine what they all must be going through.  And I pray to God that I never have to.

It's been a while

And I'm coming back.

Several things interfered with my ability to write as much as I had wanted this year but I'll spare you the details.  It's not health related (at least mine) and I didn't lose a job. So for the sake of this brief thread let's just chalk it up to laziness, inattentiveness and some degree of hiding.

I've got a five pound pail for a head and ten pounds of ideas and thoughts in it.  I plan on bangin' away on this keyboard soon so until then have a great Christmas, and a safe, healthy, and prosperous New Year.

I'll meet you on the other side of the fiscal cliff.

Gus

I am the wing man, I am the mad man, I am the walrus. (Goo goo g'joob)

Don't get me wrong.  I absolutely love to travel.  And I've always said that I'd be perfectly in my element if I was living out of a suitcase.  But right now I have to say that I am so glad to finally be home enjoying something that resembles normalcy in my life.

I just finished up the trade show season that comes to the racing industry this time every year.  Hundreds of manufacturers, distributors and dealers vying for your company's attention and on going revenue stream.  All trying to get into your catalog and onto your shelves.

Normally in the past only one show covered it all.  And for one week in December I myself as well as a few others that I work with would descend on Orlando Florida for the grand daddy of them all.  The Performance Racing Industry trade show.  One million square feet of absolute eye candy to anyone involved in motor sports.

Historically that's where our show circuit would begin and end.  And for my colleagues it did.  But for the second time in as many years I had to jump off my plane from Florida and immediately catch one to Indianapolis for their show the following week.  Two weeks after that I would find myself in Birmingham England.


Slight detour to London



The UK show was a new one for me this year.  I was told that the caliber of vendor over there is head and shoulders above what we have here in the states and it couldn't have been more true.  The parts churned out by some of these companies was absolute jewelry!  Motor sports really does command a much higher level of respect in Europe than it does here in the states and I'm so glad that I got to see this first hand.

As in all my trips in the past, business or pleasure, I pour out an enormous amount of effort researching every potential deal on air fare, hotels, and anything else that one would need when abroad.  And if I may say so I'm not all that bad at it.

But the one thing that I usually have no impact on is where I sit on a plane.  Whether I'm allowed to choose my seats or not, I always seem to find myself on the wing of an aircraft.  You know that part of the plane that amplifies every little dip and bump in the earth's atmosphere?

The reality of this became quite evident on my eight hour flight back to the states this past weekend.  For a good portion of my time in the air I couldn't read anything, nor could I play any of the in flight games on the headrest in front of me.  Just keeping a drink on my tray at times proved to be a monumental task.  Now I know it wasn't solely the fault of my bad seat assignment, but whatever mother nature was throwing at us outside was sure made painfully clear from where I was sitting inside.

And unfortunately I'm the kind of guy who will always have preconceived ideas of what things are going to be like.  Or more to the point, what they should be like.  At least in the Book of Mike.

In anything from racing, my fitness routine, fixing my car or house, to how I'm going to navigate the streets of London.  I can go from zero to moody to absolute lunatic mode in the blink of an eye if everything doesn't fall exactly into place as I imagined.  This kind of particular behavior is normally reserved for ten year olds but here I am working my fifth decade on this earth and sometimes I find that I haven't changed a bit.

Episodes like this can sap the energy out of everyone involved and quickly escalate an otherwise tiny set back into a monumental fubar.  One deep breath and maybe a little patience and composure could drastically change the outcome of the event but not when I'm seein' red! At those moments I'd be surprised if I could remember those words much less live by them.

Just ask my wife who had to endure my wrath as I tried to find our hotel from the airport in England.  Two hours to find a place that was only seven miles away!  And would I immediately accept defeat and pull over for directions?  I sure would, but only after about an hour an a half and three requests from my co-pilot.

One beautiful place to get lost in I will admit, but I still have to curse them for all those damn roundabouts.  There was a time when I used to laugh at just the thought of Chevy Chase in National Lampoon's European Vacation - "Look kids, Big Ben, Parliament", but trust me no one was smiling now!

Trips like this always breed the worst in eating habits as well.  From dinners with clients to stuffing something in your face while you're on the run.  To even attempt to eat healthy is sometimes not even in the cards.  A few drinks after the show will most likely lead to late night snacking and the next thing you know you're blogging everyone about your weight issues.

But let's spare each other the drama here and not try and portray something that I'm clearly not.  That being the ever health conscious person who counts calories and is genuinely concerned with everything they put in their mouth.  I like to take care of myself but more than that, I'm pretty sure I like to eat!

If the label is still even being used today, I consider myself something of a foodie.  I will go out of my way for a dish that I know is good or I've even heard from someone that it was.  And when you're in a new country c'mon, how are you supposed to stick to your lettuce and smoothie diet when Fish-n-Chips, Cask Ales and Full English Breakfasts are beckoning you?

Will power my friend, the answer is will power.  And as of this writing (with ten pounds that have found its way on to my frame) it is with great regret that I must say to you that I possessed none.  Not a shred!

I tried to taste it all in my short period of time there.  And if the artery clogging goodness that I enjoyed remains with me longer than the taste on my tongue and the memory in my head, then that's something I'll have to live with.

For all ten thousand miles on my bicycle and an equal amount on the treadmill!

Oh yeah, Daddy still has it!

Old habits die hard.  And going fast in anything shows no signs of mortality in my book.  Not for now anyways.

After a ten year stint in the SCCA racing Formula Fords, I put down the driving gloves and hung up the helmet for what I thought would be for good.  That was almost nineteen years ago and today I find myself just as fast, just as talented, and just as good looking as I...

Alright already!  Deflate that fat head of yours and come back down to earth.  I can almost hear each and every one of you saying it.

But when you have a drive like I had this past weekend you are almost certain of those things, even though they are a bit far fetched.  When half the field has half the horsepower than you, and the only real competition that you have out weighs you by about a hundred pounds it's easy to lose touch with reality and fantasize about being the next FIA Formula One World Champion.

All silliness aside and before I go any further, I want to say that I have all the respect in the world for today's karters.  Boy, girl, young and old alike.  Anyone who can make it out to the track a dozen and a half times a year and consistently drive one of these things quickly has my attention.  These are not toys.  And with some classes having the ability to hit triple digits it can be a handful to just keep yourself on course much less maneuver through traffic and squeak out a win.

I learned this firsthand when my son graciously allowed me to drive his Merlin LM30 in the annual Mechanic's Race at Dousman this past Sunday.  With no practice, I jumped into the kart and pulled out a win.  Made it look simple right?  If only it could have been that easy.

With a traditional Le Mans start, yours truly was the second slowest guy to take to the track.  And after two back to back spins (in the same corner) I finally found a rhythm and reeled in the leader.

This leader I speak of is the "heavy" guy I mentioned earlier.  Dave Elliott, A large man with an equally large heart.  He's the guy who loaned us an entire kart last year so my son and his co-driver could compete in an annual endurance race.  A man who will always find time to help you with a problem and give you the shirt off of his back if you needed it.  And now I have to pass him.

How does the old saying go?  All is fair in love and war?  This is kind of like war... aww hell just pass him! 

So around him I went, but not without a fight.  He left me plenty of room but didn't just hand the lead over.  After a couple of turns I emerged in front and was bound and determined to stay there this time.  I made certain that every lap was conducted in a smooth and precise manner, making not one single mistake.  I thought it was an eternity but it turned out it was only three laps before I finally took the checkered flag and found the chance to nurse my numb limbs back to life.  Ten laps, and you would have thought I raced for 24 hours by my weak handshake up and down pit lane.

These things pound the daylights out of you!  I say to anyone who has access to someone who owns one of these little darlings (and I'm not talking about the karts at the Dells) get in it and see just what I'm talking about.  I guarantee you'll come away from the experience understanding why the best professional drivers in the world have come out of karting.  With things coming at you as fast as they do, and just the plain strength needed to control one (they have no suspensions) you'll quickly have an idea of how the transition to cars comes so much easier to those who began their careers in karts than to those who have not.

I digress, since joining the ranks of the professionals is clearly not in my future.  Sure I'd love to get back in it and see what I've got, but even if I had the time and money it just wouldn't be as gratifying as that one time each year when you treat yourself to something like this.  No expectations, no disappointment, just one day to have a blast, come what may.  We'll see you next year Dave.  And to any other worthy opponents I say bring your A-game because it ain't gonna be easy...

I really have to stop that.

The lost art of relaxation

In this day and age it appears that we've all come to accept a hectic lifestyle as the norm.  It's almost as if we feel worthless or lost if we're not constantly involved in something.  I find it hard to understand how our country leads the world in obesity when a fair percentage of us can't sit still for even ten minutes!

To say my life has been busy lately is quite the understatement.

Between my full time career and my time at the firehouse I barely have enough ticks in the clock left over in a day for myself.  And if it wasn't for my son's never ending racing season or my daughter's athletics I probably wouldn't see my family much either.  Now try and toss in a fitness schedule, a new class one night a week, and a plethora of other personal issues I have going on and I quickly find that I have the recipe for a ten gallon stress stew with only a five gallon pot.

A rare opportunity presented itself to slow our lives down (if only for seven short days) when my wife and I visited the Cayman Islands last week.  An absolutely beautiful place with plenty of people who let's just say don't move very fast nor do they envy those of us who do.

I'm ashamed to say that I started my vacation as one of these people.  Once I mastered the art of piloting a right hand drive car on the left side of the road I felt myself pushing the pedal further and further into the floor boards on my daily trips.  I wasn't on the island for more than twenty four hours when I began passing some of the locals like they were standing still.  And with the exception of one fouled attempt at a roundabout (and a near head-on miss) I felt that I was the undisputed king of the road.

But then in an instant it was gone.  The need to be somewhere right now.  The desire to move faster then the next guy.  Wanting to get in line before the others.  It didn't take very long to throw out old learned ways and adopt this new system.  Island Time.

Maybe it was the sun or the sea air.  It surely could have been from the lack of outside distractions like news, movies, television in general.  Or it could very well have been from the the indigenous distractions like rum.  Something happened in a very short period of time that took me from someone who constantly checked his watch to someone who had trouble recalling what day of the week it was.  Did I already mention alcohol?

Surprisingly for the first time in this control freak's life I can honestly say that I wouldn't have had it any other way.  No co-workers or deadlines.  No pagers, sirens or phones.  Just a book case full of books, 450 feet of beach at my disposal, and not an idea of what was going to happen or what I was planning on doing until... well, I was doing it!

And to all of you with minds like me, get them out of the gutter!  That wasn't the only thing going on there.

I came away from the week completely relaxed and a bit more culturalized and enlightened.  I read a fantastic book that solidified my respect for the Dalai Lama and made it all that more important to me to slow down and be eternally thankful for the little things in life.  I came to the conclusion that I am not a fan of Rachmaninoff (actually his music scares the hell out of me) and that my wife is a bit of a princess.  Sorry babe I had to say it, but let me rephrase that by saying you're not as hearty of a soul as I am.  Even though our little beach house was growing on her by the end of our trip she would take the Ritz Carlton over it any day.

So now the test begins.  I'm back home in my own bed.  In my nosey little sub division with people who are more interested in my business than their own.  I'm back at my desk, telephones ringing and people asking you to move the earth for them.  And somewhere in all of this I have to stay true to my vow made last week that I'm going to be a more peaceful and patient man.  To those of you who know me well you know that this is not going to be a simple task.  After all I did overreact and get totally bent out of shape within the first ten minutes of my return.  The dog had an accident...again!

But I am driving on the proper side of the street again.  My kids aren't 1,679 miles away from me any more.  I'm still employed, and (touch wood) I'm finding myself above ground every morning.  It may not be a tropical paradise but it's the only real paradise I know.

Life is good.

34/30

So I'm in the restroom staring at the back of my jeans and like it's some sort of surprise to me I see 34/30 on the tag and I wince.  Christ! if you split me open like a vanilla bean and laid me out on a counter I'd be wider than I am long!  For me, this and many other reminders of my fleeting past have become all too common in my life lately.

I just got my first pair of prescription eye glasses about four months ago and I absolutely loathe using them.  But I positively can't function without them either.  And what's harder on me than hanging them on my nose every day is the memory of my fighter pilot vision that I still possessed less than a year ago.  I reveled in the fact that I could spot troopers out on the highway farther ahead of me than most mere mortals could see.  And I used to think that I could even see better at night but all of that is slowly coming to an end.  The reality for me and many others in my age bracket is that things like this that we took for granted twenty years ago are all slowly leaving us today.  Or in some cases, making it twice as hard to hold on to.

I just hope I don't become the fifty-something guy I see at the gym every night.  The one with the hair so ridiculous you ask yourself time after time if this guy is serious.  The same one who walks around in his zuma pants or full spandex and refuses to take his weight belt off even to ride the stationary bike, fearing the entire world might actually see the true size of his gut.  You know this person, he probably frequents your club as well.  And unfortunately this same guy looms inside every one of us who are approaching our fourth and fifth centuries.  It's whether or not we decide to age gracefully that determines if this clown is going to be let off his leash or not.

But in all this gloom and doom I can find some comfort in my current developmental stage.  That in the fact that I have life experience over my younger, leaner and cleaner brethren.  Don't get me wrong, most of the young guys that I know are very bright individuals, they just make rookie mistakes that a guy my age usually sees coming a mile away.  And when things like this happen to them, they pound their chests harder and charge right back in, usually to find the same results.  I read somewhere that this is the definition of insanity!  Maybe, maybe not, but it certainly is indicative of a lack of maturity.

So with all the systems slowly failing, and the chips and dings showing on the old body, I can confidently say that being right most of the time and having a head full of experience from the college of hard knocks takes away plenty of pain and shame of a 34 inch waist.

Happy Valentines Day everyone!

Just a little something I threw together for my wife. I love you dear, have a Happy Valentines Day.

Click on Lou to see for yourself.

Ever wanted to be part of a race team?

Racing.  It's something that I've always been involved in since I was young.  Whether by foot or wheel, I've always had a passion for competing and I still continue on in this tradition today.

But sixteen years ago that changed for me when my first born arrived.  Then it wasn't so much about what daddy wanted as much as it was about the child.  And I subscribed to this new paradigm lock, stock, and barrel.  I sold all of my auto racing equipment, quit the sport totally, and focused all of my time and money on the little ones.  And (stop me if you heard this one) I still continue on in this tradition today.

My son has been racing karts competitively for seven years now.  He drives, I wrench.  Oh and I pay for everything, I'm the driving coach, chauffeur, engineer, and all around morale booster.  And where once I found it painful to think that my remaining years in the sport were going to be spent behind a wrench and not a steering wheel, I've really grown to appreciate all of the work that goes on behind the scenes to manage a winning team.  And one of my tasks that I'm proud to say I've enjoyed some success in is securing business partners.

Racing takes money.  And like the old saying goes: speed costs, how fast do you wanna' go?  Flat out would be the common answer in our pit.  And if it wasn't for the people who see potential in marketing their goods in our form of motorsport we'd be moving at much slower speeds.  We truly appreciate all that these individuals bring to the tabel for us but we're constantly searching to bring new people on board.  Whether you're a business owner looking to expand your market, or a race fan looking to get up and close to the sport, we may have something that can help you.

Shamless plug moment

New for 2011, Inch-Hi Motorsports has put together a basic sponsorship plan which covers several investment levels in the team.  For business owners, they can showcase their products on a stage set in a fast paced world that only motor racing can offer.  And with demographics touching virtually every corner of the market from child to adult, male and female, and just about every income bracket in between, there's every reason to believe that your ROI will be swift and your bottom line fat.

And for those of you who share a passion for the sport but lack the time or funding, we have entry level plans that can get you one step closer to the action.  From simply receiving honorable mention for your contribution to joining us on pit road, we have a level that can get you as close to the team as you want.

The list below outlines what we have to offer and I would encourage anyone who is interested to e-mail us for more information or to request an application.  We can be reached at mjm@pegasusautoracing.com


Premiere Sponsor (Unlimited number of spots available)

• Silver - Share in the dream and receive honorable mention on the team’s website. $25

• Gold - With the Gold level, you will receive an honorable mention on the website but with the addition of an autographed team picture. $50

• Platinum - At this level you’ll receive the benefits of our Gold sponsor level with the addition of a small graphic on the kart. $100


Executive Sponsor (Two spots available)

• Standard - Platinum level Sponsor with larger graphic on kart and up to four (4) tickets to one event including lunch at the track. $500


• Preferred - Standard level Sponsor plus four (4) tickets to two (2) events including lunch at the track. $1000



Marquee Sponsor (Single spot available)

• Featured link on team website
• Framed and autographed picture
• Team apparel
• Admission to any event(s) during the season. Up to four (4) tickets per weekend with lunch served at track
• Up to an 8 square foot section of trailer gate for company logo or graphic
• One afternoon test session behind the wheel of a team kart at Badger Raceway with full crew support
• Driver (and team) available for shows, open house, grand openings, etc.

Call for rate

Because I care

How many of you can relate to this?

Your tween, or teen, arrives home from school and you lovingly greet them and ask how their day was.  an array of inaudible grunts bellow from them or worse yet, in their most irritated look they ask why is it that you have to ask so many questions.

Dinner has just finished and while everyone is doing their part in cleaning up you simply ask if anyone has homework and if so, have they completed it.  Then as if you've asked them to move mountains for you, they angrily say that either A.) they do and they'll get it done, just stop worrying about it, or B.) they'll get it done in study hall and ask you to please stop nagging them!

Or how about this.  Your daughter is dressed up like an angel.  Her hair and nails are done, and she's ready for her first formal high school dance and she's going with a boy who is a bit older no less.  Like any concerned parent you ask how the two of them are getting there, if he's going to take you to dinner, and what your plans are for the night.  Before you can even finish the last sentence, or click the first picture, she starts with the "why are you so nosey" thing and wonders why you can't just trust them and give them their space.

The answer is plain and simple.  It's because I care.  And any level headed, concerned, caring and loving parent would say the same.  Us old folks understand space, hell we need it sometimes ourselves.  And nosey?  How about wanting to still be a part of your life!  It's rough on someone when their child starts to mature and shows that they need their parents less and less.  But we don't do the things we do to control you or make your life miserable, we do it because we care.

My son has been driving for a few months now and I don't think a day goes by where I don't preach to him about the importance of safety belts, looking both ways, and keeping his distractions to a minimum.  I know he's wondering why I have to continually remind him of this stuff when (in his mind) he's a seasoned veteran with over one hundred races in the past seven years behind the wheel of a kart.  I have to keep reminding him though that everyone going in the same direction, even at much higher speeds, is usually a lot safer than slower traffic moving in opposite directions.



I just finished reading an eye-opening article the other day about the staggering amount of teens that are dying on our nation's streets and highways.  The enormity of this problem is made crystal clear when this 2006 article explained that since the Iraq invasion in 2003 there were 2600 American troops killed in combat.  In that same period, over 22,000 teenagers ages 15 to 19 died in traffic accidents on U.S. roads.  So when I seem like a broken record and constantly warn you about the dangers that lurk around every corner I do it because I care.  And statistics like that make it no easier on us.


Now I haven't been given any reasons yet to doubt my new driver, or the one who will follow him, but this week I felt inclined to put my expectations of them on paper and have them sign their life away.  Or hopefully in this case, their life to keep.  Nothing too complicated, and pretty easy for a teen to understand, or am I giving them too much credit?  You be the judge.



The XXXXXXX Family Driving Contract

I, (_______________________________) Hereby agree to the stipulations stated below granting me the privilege of driving. If at any time I should violate this agreement, my driving privileges could be forfeited until further determination is made by my parents and/or the authorities, if involved.

1. Should I get a traffic ticket, I agree to pay for the ticket, as well as the difference in the insurance premium for as long as the premium is in effect.

2. I agree to pay for damages that I incur which are not covered by insurance.

3. At no time will I ever drink alcoholic beverages and drive, nor will there ever be any in the vehicle.

4. I will not drive any vehicle until I and all passengers have buckled up.

5. I will keep the vehicle I drive clean, inside and out, and be aware of its needs for gas, oil, etc.

6. At all times, whether driving or parked, my music will be played at a low level as to not distract my driving as well as the peace of others. I will also pull to the side of the road when texting or calling someone on my cell phone in the case of an emergency. Otherwise my phone will be OFF while the car is in gear.

7. And as it pertains to taking rides from others, I will never enter a vehicle where the driver (or any of its occupants) are impaired by drugs and/or alcohol. I understand that in doing so I could not only jeopardize my safety, but forfeit the privilege of my own license if this is discovered.

I have read the above agreement and sign it in accordance with these rules.

Signed,

(Parent)____________________________ Date ________

(Student)___________________________ Date ________

I found something that resembled this document in an old Autoweek magazine article and just massaged it into something that I'm hoping we can all live with.  I say this tongue-in-cheek as its become very clear that I need to take a dose of my own medicine.  Just a mere two days after he signed it I took a cell phone call while we were out on the road and was immediately reprimanded by both of them for it.  It's great that they remembered the rules and made them very clear to me, I guess they are listening after all.  So much for leading by example.

But in the end it really doesn't matter how old you are, you'll always be concerned about your own.  How many people out there are still hounded by parents (more than likely Mom) on a daily basis?  You can only tell her so many times that things are alright and everyone is doing fine before it begins to get a bit monotonous, right?  But you'll most likely do it to your children when they've grown, and it's for no other reason than why your own mother is calling you.  It's because we care.

And if you think a lack of this kind of "bother" will make your world a much more peaceful place then regardless of whether you're young or old I beg you to think again.  You really need to reevaluate your situation and thank god that you have someone who cares.  There are far too many people in this world who do not, so it shouldn't be such a monumental task to realize that your issue with our being nosey is really a blessing in disguise.

Animoto, you gotta try it!

Create your own video slideshow at animoto.com.

You gotta go to this site if you're like me and you have about a billion pictures stored on your computer.  It's simple and it's free (if you keep it to 30 seconds)and you can choose from several backgrounds and music overlays.

Now I've heard it all

First, I'd like to apologize for taking as much time off as I have from 3AM with Gus.  Busy is an understatement when it comes to what has been on the family agenda this year but it took something like the horrible off-road crash that happened in the Mojave desert this past weekend to wake me up and get me going again.

What has and always will aggravate the hell out of me is stupid people.  For the purpose of this article I'll narrow it down to the stupid things that stupid people say, and lately it seems to be spreading like an epidemic.  People just don't think when they say things, or they feel that the garbage coming out of their skull cave truly has merit.  Like politicians who never seem to be at a loss of ignorant words: "I smoked it but I didn't inhale", or Mark Chapman's insane reasons for killing John Lennon.  Think of the moral fiber we're dealing with here and it's easy to base our comments on these individual's way of thinking but not when it comes to a good friend of one of the victims of the California 200 crash.  This guy spoke out on NBC's Today Show this morning and had the audacity to place some of the blame in the driver's hands for his buddy's death.  This is when I had to scream enough!

After all he looked like an intelligent individual, a nice person who truly cared for the well being of his deceased friend's family and I felt awful for them, him included.  I don't know how I'd react if one minute I'm standing with my friend or family member watching a race and in an instant they're lying dead right next to me.  What I do know is that I wouldn't say something as silly as "the drivers should slow down to somewhere around 20 or 30 miles per hour when they reach these stages that have fans lining the track".  Earth to slow guy, YOU are on THEIR track!  I'm just going to throw this out there but if you don't feel safe being that close to racing vehicles at speed then you should get your ass further away from them!  I watched the video and nowhere did I see anyone with a gun to all of your heads making you stand where you were.

Seriously, you show up at a race with no guard rails, catch fences, concrete abutments, or any other means of keeping the vehicles on track and you think the drivers have some sort of responsibility to the crowd?  If the crowds that attend these events had that little voice of reason talking in their head they wouldn't be standing at the road's edge while vehicles whistle past them at 80 miles per hour.  We've seen this all too often in Europe with the WRC, and their jaded past has called for some changes in how the sport now handles crowds at these races.  Until recent years, thousands of people would line the road side with most of them on the track surface until the cars would come through their stage.  Then, like the parting of the Red Sea, people would retreat to the sides of the road just inches from the vehicles as they would fly by at very high speeds.  Countless injuries and numerous deaths have occurred over the years and you would think that the organizers and promoters of the California 200 would have learned from something like this.  Oh they state that people must be 50 feet from any vehicle traveling above 15mph, but it's one thing to talk about it and another to figure out a way to enforce it.

What happened this past weekend is a tragedy and regardless of what I or anyone else may think that these people did or didn't do, it doesn't lessen the fact that many innocent people were injured or killed.  Good people who went there with just one intention- take in the sport they love and have a good time.  But the simple missing ingredient here was common sense.  It wasn't a speed limit imposed on drivers in certain areas.  It was our ability as rational thinking human beings to analyze the situation, assess the risk, and adjust accordingly.  But for some people it's much easier to be reactive and point fingers at others in times like this than to be proactive and avoid having things happen to us at all.  Just listen to one spectator from Laguna Niguel.  When asked about what she saw and her thoughts, she said "There were too many people, They all wanted to be close". "I didn't see the driver, he probably would have been killed by the crowd".

The prosecution rests.

When you visit a race track that does have all of the safety measures in place you still know things can go wrong.  We've all seen Indy cars climb the fence at the Brickyard or a Top Fuel car explode and rain debris in the stands and in many instances people have gotten injured or even killed.  We as fans (or participants) all run the risk of serious injury or even worse every time we set foot in a racing facility.  The human body is no match for a vehicle of any size at any speed, and we all have to respect this fact and take every precaution available to ensure our safety and that of others.  Sadly after this weekend it's a point all too well known now by people who may have forgotten otherwise.

I've been a bad, bad boy

I used to think that one day I would follow Buddhism more closely.  I can honestly say that I could adhere to the five precepts but after receiving a bit of information on a past archenemy of mine, that idea looks like it's about to get shot straight to hell!

Practice the training of mindful speech, refrain from harmful speech.  This would be precept number four and one that since I consider myself more mature than I was twenty years ago, I feel I can certainly live with.  Or can I?  I once knew a man who told me to surround myself with positive thinking people and eliminate the negative from my life totally.  "Negative thinking people suck the life out of you" he would say.  And he was right.  Within minutes of standing around and listening to people like this you find yourself buying into their rubbish and making comments about everything around you.  But when I recently heard about a certain individual who has backed himself into such a corner that there's really no escape, I jumped in feet first.  Comments abound, I didn't hold back my elation for his recently acquired hardship.

This does nothing for my moral fiber.  If anything it destroys any shred of decency that I once thought I had.  But there's a certain amount of pleasure one gets when an absolutely horrible person is now found on their knees.  It feels pretty good when once in time you didn't amount to an amoeba on the ass of a fly in this person's eyes and now you are the one still standing.  When someone has historically questioned your morals and decisions and everyone around you, only to later find that they contradicted everything they've said by their own actions.  This can be quite gratifying.

Forgive me if I seem to be gloating here.  I've always felt strongly that no one deserves to be unhappy, ill-stricken, or hungry and I still subscribe to this wholeheartedly.  But in this particular case it's taking just about every ounce of energy in me to find it in my heart and mind to forgive.  I'm usually not a cruel person so I can only chalk it up to the hockey player in me since retribution was a defensive lineman's middle name.  And before I get every player in North America lined up at my doorstep to either sue me for defamation of character or punch the living tar out of me, let me make it clear that I am not speaking for all hockey players when I say this.

Still, after all the elation has subsided and the little voice of reason speaks up, it's something I nor anyone else in this type of situation should be proud of.  And I'm going to try to hear this voice over the sadistic laughter that usually drowns it out.  It's no surprise that this person was a pain in many people's rear quarters, not just mine.  And I know for a fact that there are others who upon hearing this news began to feel like I do.  In the end you can paint it any color you like and lay blame on who or whatever you choose but it's still wrong.  Regardless of what god you worship I have to think he/she would frown on it.

Fortunate

The dictionary defines fortunate as having good fortune; receiving good from uncertain or unexpected sources; lucky.  After this past year I would think that to say I'm fortunate would be an understatement.

With winter setting in and the holidays approaching it's once again time to reflect on our past, ponder the future, and celebrate everything that we have.  And for those of you who know me and know that I rarely talk this way, let it be clear that I truly mean this and it's not some she-she line that I stole from another writer.  Many things from this past year have me feeling extremely grateful for everything that I have.

My Father.

With every day that we grow older we realize that one day our time will come.  And I've always feared those telephone calls at unheard of hours of the morning, knowing it can't mean anything but trouble.  That call came a few months ago and shook me straight to my core.  "He's in the hospital" I was told, "Get there quick".

A stroke and a heart attack could have very easily taken him from us this year but despite the severity of his illness it proved not to be his time as he pulled through it much better than I anticipated.  With only small deficits left over from his experience he's got a new lease on life, and although he doesn't drive that well he's pretty much all intact.  Honestly, I don't think he could drive well to begin with but please don't tell him I said that.  In the end I couldn't be more thankful since in my line of work I see too many people go through this with much different consequences.  Frankly, on that car ride in to the hospital that morning I was prepared to write off who he once was but through his determination and a little help from the big guy upstairs it looks like he'll be sticking around a while longer.

Livelihood

Job, home, food, and clothing, we still have them all and I wake up thankful every day for it.  It seems like everyone around me is losing something in these trying times.  Their job, retirement funds, homes, their sanity!  With this economy being a mere shell of what it was eighteen months ago it's a wonder anyone has a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of.

Of my two jobs, I seriously thought that one would be affected more than it has.  It's a safe bet to say that working on a rescue squad has its benefits since we'll always have sick people to deal with.  But auto racing? that's just disposable income and we all know that in hard times these are the areas that are first in line for cut-backs.  On the contrary, we planned and followed through with an expansion of our building when most companies were closing their doors.  It's a good thing for us that people will still do anything for their toys.  It's because of them that I can still put food on our table.  If I could thank each and every one of you I would.

Family

This could very easily have fallen under livelihood since I'd be absolutely lost without them.  And without my wife in particular, everything I said about having a roof over my head would be a moot point.  If I didn't have her to constantly make me aware of the fact that I don't take home a half million dollars a year, I'd more than likely spend every dime I made.  Yes boys I'm the spender in the family, not my significant other as the stereotype often goes.

I've got plenty to be thankful for when it comes to my children.  Even though my daughter has reached her teens and my son has begun driving I've still managed to keep my sanity, teach them what I can, love them unconditionally, and get a few hours of sleep each night.  Soon when they're both totally mobile I'll probably see next to nothing of them and then in an instant, they'll be gone.  It's going to happen sooner than I ever imagined and as lost as I'll feel without them, I'll be grateful for every waking moment I had with them.

The moral of this story is more than just some cliche' phrase.  Never underestimate what you have.  This should be something that you realize every single day of your life and not just during the holidays.  You may not have a big new house, a car, or money.  You may not even have a large circle of friends.  But if you have family, you have everything you'll ever need.  I've always told my kids that friends are important, but especially in their young lives friends will come and go like the seasons.  At the end of the day, your family will always be there for you. 

But there are plenty of people out there who have no family, and for individuals as fortunate as us this is something that is heartbreaking to even imagine.  whether their family members have passed away or parted ways, there are plenty of folks out there who are alone.  I met one such person recently and it was both a somber experience and as odd as it sounds, very gratifying for me.

While working on the rescue squad this past weekend, we responded to an elderly man who had fallen in his home.  His injuries didn't appear to be life threatening, but he was a bit shaken up and agreed to go to the hospital to be looked at.  While en route with a patient we always strike up friendly conversations to help pass the time.  And being close to Christmas, the ice breaker for this shift was whether or not your shopping was done and if you were ready for the holidays.  "As ready as I'll ever be" he quietly replied.  I went on to ask if it was going to be a large gathering or something small, and if he had to travel or if he was hosting the event.  "Nope, just me" he said.  "My friends have all passed away and aside from my daughter in Florida, I have no one else".  Not seeing the forest for the trees, I kept up with the conversation until it awkwardly became clear to me that his daughter hasn't spoken to him in many years.  This revelation was sad in itself but being one week from Christmas it made his situation that much harder to grasp.  Christmas is so profoundly family oriented and here's someone who is going to spend it alone.  When he has family no less!

I was deeply affected by this guy and his situation for days and it wasn't until I began writing this article that I realized he had given me a gift.  He had opened my eyes and put everything in perspective for me.  Never again will I take for granted what I have and the relationships that I keep with others.  And though I have no clue why his relationship with his daughter got to where it is, nor am I implying that he was of any fault, I am going to try even harder at being the best husband, father, and friend that I can.  Petty instances between my own daughter and I have escalated to unhealthy levels before and maybe this old timer was a ghost of Christmas Yet to Come.

Not if I can help it.

Commencing Countdown, Engines On

Over thirteen years ago I clipped and saved a short article written by Cory Farley of Autoweek magazine (March 4, 1996, The Plight of the Navigator). It was a story of his trials and tribulations in training his own son to drive.  Back then, my oldest hadn't even reached his second birthday but knowing that this day would find us quicker than I could probably imagine I decided to hang on to it.  So here I am, over a decade later I pull the yellowing copy from my briefcase and smile.  Exactly one month from today we will embark on my son's journey out onto the blacktop jungle.

Actually since that day I have amassed a good sized collection of articles on the topic of teen driving.  The reason that this particular story got my attention is because like Mr. Farley, I have driven in the triple digits before with family in tow.  I took the "racetrack road" that my kids suggested when we left our house, listening to their laughter as we would glide through a corner a bit faster than the posted limit.  I pulled the parking brake on snow and spun us into the driveway like only the finest rally driver would.  I've even rolled a car once.  Relax! I was twenty years old and single.  No children or spouses were harmed in that particularly embarrassing moment in time.  And now with a long line of events in my life that my kids are all too aware of, I'm forced to play the "Do as I say not as I do" card.  God what a hypocrite!

One thing unique to my situation that Mr. Farley didn't have is a child who has logged a substantial amount of time behind the wheel of a race vehicle.  At ten years old my son was moving along at speeds upward of sixty miles per hour before I even took the playing cards out of my spokes as a kid!  What I can't quite figure out though is if this fact should assure me of his respect of a motor vehicle or if it's going to turn out to be the kiss of death.

I've been told that I'm certifiable if I buy into the fact that he's going to be safer than those without his training.  That when I let him loose he'll tear around town like the whole world is his racetrack.  And that he'll obviously drive much faster than the other kids because he's more comfortable at high speeds.  On the contrary, I feel that ignorance and a lack of respect for your new steed is the perfect combination for disaster.  On my first night with my license I had managed to take about thirty-thousand miles off my father's tires on his Cutlass and about ten years off the transmission.  I had seen burn outs at the drag strip and heard of this thing called a neutral drop but never experienced them first hand.  By about 11pm on that night I had become a pro.  And by some miracle of God I didn't kill myself or take anyone with me in the process.

After reading that article for the first time back in '96 I had the whole orientation planned out for him.  But given his resume to date I'm thinking there may be no need for me to pull a parking brake on him to see how he reacts, or take him to a snow covered parking lot to feel the tail come around.  He's experienced this already in spades, and at a quicker and much more violent rate than a clumsy two-thousand pound car would.  What I do need to do is remind him that not everyone is moving in the same direction as he is.  And with people texting, blasting their stereo, and fixing their faces while driving, this environment is ten times more dangerous than any race track he's driven on.  Even at a substantially reduced pace the behemoth that you pilot out in the real world- with its doors, roof and sound steel structure- could very well hurt or kill you much easier than anything you've experienced before in competition.

I think the hardest thing for me to teach him is going to be to trust that gut feeling which warns you of impending doom.  You know that over anxious and sometime nauseous feeling you get which is quickly followed by a little voice telling you that you're going too fast for the turn ahead.  That same voice that asks if the guy parked on the side of the road (who happens to be turning his wheels into traffic) has checked his mirrors and sees you coming.  Or those moments when you're at an intersection and you get the green light.  You pause for a brief second, check both ways, and then proceed through the intersection after an idiot blows the red light and damn near takes you out of the picture.  You can make your new driver aware of these situations but honestly how do you truly teach them?  They're just going to have to experience it, have a few close calls, catch their breath, and with time they'll become second nature.

The old saying goes: What doesn't kill us makes us stronger.  But when it comes to the responsibility of driving, even if we survive the event, we could be left with the incredible guilt of hurting another individual.  We ourselves could become so badly injured that we are restricted to a hospital bed and a ventilator.  And if we're lucky, maybe a wheelchair and feeding tube.  I just hope he realizes this because even though he's had several years behind the wheel of his kart he's also had the luxury of a reset button on his Xbox.  But in real life, and especially out on our roads and highways, there are no do-overs.

Another year, another reminder

Eight years ago this great country of ours came under attack and like most of us I still can't totally believe what happened on that beautiful fall morning.  The enormous amount of innocent lives lost, and for the survivors, the lost feeling of ever being safe here at home again.  These cowards delivered a sucker punch that left us still reeling all these years later but they didn't win.  We haven't forgotten and we never will.  But for most of us we've brushed ourselves off and got on with our lives.

At least as well as we could.

I remember how quiet it was in the skies for days after the attacks when all flights were grounded.  Our skies are now once again filled.  I can recall many instances of hearing about letters being delivered with a suspicious powdered material on them.  You don't hear of this much anymore.  And security measures which were once so strict you almost loathed going to an airport are now less critical than they once were.  We're getting on with our lives alright, but I hope we don't get too comfortable in doing so.

Don't get me wrong.  These maggots would have won if we were still shaking uncontrollably and biting our finger nails and I'm glad we're not.  But these groups who hate us so bad haven't left their drawing boards for a minute.  And they could set our world on its ear in an instant if we give them the chance.  We have to enjoy life but with a bit of vigilance.  We need to make certain that events like this don't happen again in our lifetime nor our children's.

Everyone everywhere knows what they were doing at that moment in their lives.  Just like the generation before me knows what they were doing when JFK was killed, and the generation before that when Pearl Harbor was bombed.  These things were unfathomable, and especially hard to believe that it could happen right here on U.S. soil.  But they did happen here, and it just goes to show that even the largest of super powers can have a chink in its armour that could bring it to its knees.  All of us are key components that make up the armour of this great nation.  Young and old, serviceman and civilian alike, we all have a part in keeping ourselves safe from monsters who threaten the sanctity of a free world.

Below you'll find a collection of pictures taken on my family's last trip to New York city.  The 9/11 museum came highly suggested by a family member of mine who had visited the city shortly before us.  Back in 2001 we all knew how big of a disaster that day was when we watched the events unfold on our tv screens.  But for me it wasn't until I saw ground zero and got to view all of the items collected from the site that I truly realized the magnitude of that tragedy.  It was much larger than I ever imagined and very overwhelming to say the least.  You couldn't help but have mood swings from utter sadness to bitter anger.  I was warned that the exhibit left not one dry eye but thought that I'd be different.  I was wrong.

A portion of one of the planes that hit the WTC.

An SCBA bottle from one of the New York firefighters.







What's left of an FDNY turn out coat.










Tools recovered.

Notice the pistols literally fused to one another.






A steel column from One WTC.










Ladder/Engine Co. 10 located directly across the street from ground zero.


The bronze memorial wall on the side of 10 House.

Go ahead, bite the Big Apple

We bit it a month ago when my family and I decided that the big city was going to be this year's destination for our annual getaway.  And I'm pleased to say we liked it!  Some more than others, but all in all it was definitely something to see.

Up until this year I was the only one in the family who had ever been there.  About thirty years ago to be exact, but some of that trip was still in my mind and I knew we'd find something for each of us to enjoy.  Heck, with the ethnic diversity alone it would make for some great people watching wouldn't you think?



Racing has taken up a lot of our time over the past five years and a family trip of this sort has always taken a back seat to our weekend endeavours.  We were determined to not let this year go by in the same fashion so about four months ago we began looking at our options.  Everything up to this point included a giant mouse in Florida so with our already grown family, and the fact that we wanted to keep it a bit more *affordable, New York was what we landed on.

*Regarding affordable, outside of a screamin' deal on airfare (which we upgraded anyway to better seats) there was not much that was "affordable" about this trip.  But hey, when you're in a city with non-stop entertainment and rents for apartments going two to three times more than my mortgage, You can live with it.

Like any trip into uncharted lands there was some apprehension.  Oh we've contemplated the complexity of their mass transit system, the looming threat of a crime waiting to happen around every corner, and the fact that when you've seen one large building you've probably seen them all.  We were told that New York City in August would be unbearable.  Warm temperatures forecasted for our week would make an already irritable town even more jumpy, but I have to say that this nor any of these fallacies were true.  The people were generally hospitable, the weather not bad, and we rode the subway system like pros after only a couple of trips.  And with the amount of uniformed police officers around at all hours we never once felt unsafe.











After all of the typical stops were made- Times Square, the Empire State Building, and Ellis Island, I had one of the best times just strolling through Central Park and the surrounding neighborhood.  We had to swing by the Dakota to see John Lennon's digs and I have to say that the architecture on that building and many others around it were absolutely stunning.  This day trip did rival our time at Yankee Stadium watching the Bronx Bombers humiliate Seattle.  My son and I took the train straight uptown on a gorgeous Sunday afternoon and got the best seats I feel I will ever find in a stadium.  And by accident I might add!  It's a bit of a long story to go into but let me just say that if you find yourself at the ticket booth empty handed at game time, ask for the Cafe Bleacher seats.  These seats are normally a minimum of $150 a seat but at game time they shrink to just $50 and have all the amenities of much more expensive tickets.

So there you have it.  In my mind there's no need to worry about navigating this town, everything is laid out quite easily I had thought.  At least Manhattan is.  The boroughs weren't bad either but nothing beats a strip of land 7 miles long and three miles wide.  And with destinations at 42nd and Third, how can you go wrong?

Bring on the Big Guns

My heart has always been in road racing but my soul belongs to the NHRA.  Long before I ever strapped myself into a race car I was at the local dragstrip watching the grudge matches, or a few blocks off of highway 100 doing some runs of my own.  This past weekend my family and I got to take in the circus otherwise known as the Full Throttle NHRA Nationals in Joliet Illinois.  Three days of tire smoke, Nitromethane fumes, and enough percussion to crack your sternum.

I attended my first pro event just a few years ago with my son at this very same track.  Until then I had only witnessed this caliber of competition on the TV screen and boy let me tell you it does no justice to the sport at all.  I explained this to my wife and daughter on the drive down and still had the impression that they had no idea of what to expect once we got there.

Armed with all of the hearing protection one could ask for, we made our way to the stands just as the Top Fuel Funny Cars were taking the grid.  And as I expected, the first pair off the line made the two of them jump nearly out of their skin.  Ok, I did a bit too.  After all its been five years since I had last been there.

You can't really explain the feeling other than what one must feel like when a bomb goes off in front of them.  The atmosphere around you literally explodes to the point that your insides feel every shockwave.  The stands literally sway when one of these behemoths take off.  Even with good hearing protection you find yourself a bit weak from the sound after one full day at the track.  And if you're not used to it, the smell of burning rubber and nitro can be a bit much for some.  I myself feel that if they could bottle it, I'd wear it after every shower.




The Dragsters and Funny Cars always steal the show but it was Pro Stock Motorcycle that was the highlight for us this time around.  In the past my daughter would sit at home and watch the races on tv with me and always say that she was interested in doing this some day.  Bringing her to the track to see first hand what it takes to pilot one of these things, and the speeds involved in which they do it, would not prove to deter her one bit.  It wasn't until I explained what it cost to be competitive at this level did she say she didn't want to do it.  That's my girl, always worried about the check book balance.


We were particularily drawn to a new rider from California by the name of Katie Sullivan.  A relative newbie to the scene, she wanted to ride PS motorcycles since she was twelve years old as well.  After talking with her for a while she had told us that her climb to the pro ranks was a slow one, but considered herself quite lucky on the contrary.  Had she and her father not met the Gann family in Las Vegas she never would of got her break into the pros.  Now, at the tender age of 18 she is going toe to toe with the best.  She actually beat one of the top seeded riders to move on to round two but unfortunately for her that was where her charge came to an end.  She was eventually beaten by another rider and sent home early.  Something tells me she'll be back.


And Money.  We all know it takes a lot of it to get anywhere in this sport, and after this weekend we know where a lot of the checks are being written to.  It still amazes me that in our current economic climate we still see teams with three and four semi trucks loaded to the gills with everything one would need to perform their job out on the road.  Several of the bigger name teams would even have one truck dedicated to hospitality alone.  Vast areas dedicated to nothing but feeding and entertaining the folks who pay their bills.

So with that I have to say goodbye to my beloved straightliners and return to the sanctity of my left, right, go, stop world.  These tickets that I recieved for this event were courtesy of Goodridge USA which is one of the largest suppliers of high performance hose and plumbing products in the world.  I thank you again for this opportunity to take in one of the greatest shows on earth.

The world according to Gus, Part II

Ah the old double standard.  Do as I say, not as I do.  I've heard adults say this all of my life and it never really sank in until recently. Now that I'm an adult and a parent, I realize that we don't exactly know everything either.

I'm beginning to see that I'm a bit of a hypocrite myself when I talk to my kids lately.  They're at the age now when questions like "did you ever smoke", "did you ever try that", or "when did you start doing this" are arising.  What in the world is a person to say!  I can't just spill my guts now can I?  And I can't make matters worse and lie to them either.  This wasn't covered in the how-to manual of raising a happy and healthy teen.  Oh wait there isn't one.  That's what makes this job so damn hard!

I've preached about the need for total honesty with one another from birth and I still do it today.  I've always told them that we have nothing without honesty.  And I've assured them that no matter what the infraction, there will be a far lesser penalty enforced if they come clean with me.  During any situation and regardless of the circumstance, I sure hope they remember this when they find themselves somewhere doing the same things I did when I was let off my leash over thirty years ago.  Or when a ride home is needed at 1am because your friends aren't in any shape to drive.

But to help guide them in their ways I wanted to paint a picture of their father being the straight laced kid who listened well and stayed out of trouble.  A person they can look up to as someone who knew right from wrong and chose the high road whenever possible.  Someone who was not so easily swayed by the decisions and actions of his peers and didn't succumb to the pressure to "just try it, you won't get hooked".  A guy who knew what the legal drinking age was and waited to take that first sip.

So much for honesty.

I grew up in a middle class family of two working parents.  Comparing my life with my children to the life I had with my parents when growing up is a stark contrast to one another.  I do more with them, and have done more with them to this age than my folks did with me in my entire life.

I'm fine with this.  I'm not in therapy, and I don't feel like I was short changed in my upbringing.  My wife and I have been blessed for the most part with decent jobs that allow us plenty of time to be with our own kids and in my parents defense they had to make due with what they had.

My father worked about every shift a man could get to bring home a paycheck and disposable hours spent doing anything else were few and far between.  And it wasn't like I contributed much to help with the weekly chore list and eliminate other responsibilities that he had on his time off.  My mother briefly took time away from the workforce to raise my sister and I but quickly returned when we could wipe our own rear ends. And she still continues to work full time today.

There was also the fact that their era was more concerned with raising their kids right rather than trying to be their best friends.  They were, and their parents were, the iron fist of reason who provided food and shelter first and fun and games later.  I honestly believe that my generation is having some of the problems with our children today because we are failing to recognize this one fundamental fact.  Our jobs are to first help them become intelligent, honorable individuals before we give them everything that their heart desires.  We have grown so used to saying that we want our kids to have everything we didn't that we are setting them up for failure on a much larger scale.

When it came to sports, When I was a kid you had to try out for the team.  If you failed, you tried even harder next season.  Now, there are three volleyball teams in my daughter's middle school to accommodate all of the students who've signed up for it.  Notice I said signed up.  Anyone with a pen and a pair of shorts and gym shoes are welcomed.  And let me say that after many painful matches watching kids who had absolutely no skill at all I found it hard to understand what it is that these schools are trying to do (or not do).  God forbid we should damage them for life and cut them from the team for not performing.  This is preparing them for life?  Maybe life on another planet but surely not mine.  I mean in the real world we all get the jobs we want at the salaries we need, right?  We all can now qualify for home loans above and beyond what we can actually afford and we're never turned down for anything anymore.  Instead of taking a proactive look at things and educating our kids on how the system works and what to expect in life, we have become a society of yes-men who give virtually everything to anyone and let them worry about the repercussions later when they fail.

It's like these goof ball liberal parents who feel that their children are going to drink anyway so as long as they do it at home they're fine with that.  This frame of mind has to be the most asinine thing I've ever heard.  Instead of teaching them what's right from wrong, convincing them that you can still be the life of the party without drugs, and letting them know that you can be very cool by just being yourself, they are giving them permission to begin their downward spiral in the safe confines of their own living room.  Remember folks, we were all that age at one time.  Half the fun of doing it was when it was wrong and there was an element of risk.  At home or not at home, It's all wrong.

So what am I going to do when the questions become more specific and I can't tap dance around the subject?  I'm going to have to practice what I preach and tell my kids the truth.  I made my mistakes and I paid for them.  And in some instances my friends, who were not as lucky as me, paid for it with their lives.  I was the lucky one.  Nevertheless I was stupid, and put my parents through undue stress, but I survived.  And that's no guarantee that they will be as lucky.

I'll tell them of the countless kids we pulled from cars injured in accidents.  Some drunk, and some taking a ride from a drunk. I'll explain to them what a family looks like when they watch EMT's work on their teenage child who nearly died from a heroin overdose.  And I'll tell them how bad I felt after my first binge and what liberties were taken away from me by my father in doing so.

And all the while I say this I know that I'll be the hypocrite who did these things himself and forbid them from doing the same.  But with a watchful eye, an open line of communication, and trust in them with a mutual respect of each other, I can only hope that they do the right thing.  And with a little luck I too will have two kids who survived their younger years.

After me, anything is possible.

Anyone can do it

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Check it out and then go to Animoto.com and make one yourself.

Reaching new heights

This past weekend a band of twelve brothers gathered to do battle in downtown Milwaukee and even though the outcome wasn't what I had hoped for, I couldn't be prouder to have been amongst them.

Unlike other occasions when our objectives would be to fight fires, help rescue someone from a frozen pond, or assist one another with whatever mother nature threw our way, we would face a formidable foe that would prove to eventually kick our tail in ways we never imagined.  I can't speak for anyone else but to be totally honest with you I had an idea it was going to be tough.  I was just too naive to think it would really affect me that much.

The adversary I speak of was called Climb Wisconsin and it was put on by the American Lung Association to raise money and awareness for their cause.  And appropriately enough this Valentines Day it was held at the US Bank building on Milwaukee's lakefront.  All 47 floors, 94 flights, and 1,034 stairs were laid out before us to prove myself wrong and many others like me who think we're in about the best shape of our lives.

The objective was quite simple in theory, just not in a practical sense.  Get your carcass, and those of four others in your team, up to the top of a tall building as quickly as you can.  The fastest cumulative time wins.


We all arrived there about an hour before our two teams were set to go up, congregating in the atrium with nine other departments who each staked out their own staging areas.  When it was announced that our teams were to report to the start, we gathered all of our equipment (turn-out gear and SCBA) and began the trek down to the sub street levels.  Unlike the others who had gone before us, the firefighter challenge was to be performed while wearing fifty pounds of gear on your back.  We've all worn this stuff a million times before but today it felt oddly heavier than I could remember.  At this time a few of the guys were asking me how I talked them into this and honestly I was asking myself the same thing.  No problems though, we were all going to run up this thing and laugh about it in about fifteen minutes.  Yeah right!


Once downstairs we would eventually stand in line to wait for our turn to begin.  Although the line wasn't very long, the minute or so that it took to get to the staring mat felt like an eternity to some of us.  Each person is released in ten second intervals and as you get closer you can just feel the amount of adrenalin rising in you.  When you finally reach the mat, a five second countdown begins and off you go.

I went last for my team, so I could hear the tempo of which everyone was clanging away on each stair as they would climb.  After a couple of flights I felt this was a bit slow for my liking so I began to gradually pass everyone.  This proved to be the kiss of death and quickly took me from the front of our pack to the guy laying on the landing that people would have to step over.  I heard that little voice in my head telling me to tone it down but my ego was shouting much louder.  My ego lost.



When I finally peeled myself off the floor it took every ounce of my energy and even more perseverance than I had to continue.  By the twentieth floor I was thinking of excuses to throw the towel in but I just couldn't.  I didn't eat bird food for five weeks and train like I did to quit.  By about the thirty-sixth floor I went down again and this time I didn't think I was getting up.  This was also the time when I noticed that I had a couple of Paramedics following closely behind me and it was a bit annoying and creepy all at the same time.  On one hand I'm angry because my ever so proud self is convinced that there's no reason anyone should have to follow ME, and on the other hand I felt like an injured wildebeest being tracked by vultures.




I assured them that I was fine and they eventually backed off and left me to climb on my own but it wasn't long before I had to take a knee and rest again.  If it wasn't for a guy from Waukegan Fire who stopped to help me up I wouldn't have done it.  At that moment I was about ten floors from the finish with only one floor left in me and I was sure at this time that I had nothing left to go on.  He told me to stay on my feet and keep moving, no matter how slowly.  I did exactly what he said and several flights later the end finally came.  I never got his name but whoever you are brother you were a huge help and I can't thank you enough.


Sweating more than I have ever done, and feeling like my legs were two hundred pounds a piece, I stepped across the finish line and proceeded to find myself a corner to go and die in.  I was happy that it was over and a great feeling of accomplishment was in me but you had to look hard to see it.  I felt bad for my daughter who was waiting there for me and wanted a nice big smile for the camera but I just couldn't muster one up.  I was just happy to be alive at this point.

Although some of us may not have quite met our expectations, to just finish this thing is a monumental task that we can all be proud of.  A few of the guys I'm certain are probably extremely satisfied with their accomplishments and in my opinion require the most honorable of mentions.




From Tichigan, the big winner was one Mr. Kyle Kierstead.  With a 13:59, he was by far the fastest individual in our group.  The little snot didn't have a bead of sweat on him when I finished.  But then again he had plenty of time to take a shower and change clothes before most of us reached the top.  You definitely earned braggin' rights my friend, congratulations to you!



Second place deservedly enough went to Burt Peterson with a 16:26.  That weight vest paid out huge dividends now didn't it?  You provided inspiration to all of us more mature gents so you'll have to do this again next year, and maybe we can take the title away from West Allis.



And rounding out our top three is Tommy Nehring with a 19:17.  I guess I have to take your smack talk now don't I?  By the way, not to belittle any of our boy's accomplishments but those animals at WAFD won the event with an average time of 11:30 per team member.  Man do we have our work cut out for us!

Recognition must also be given to The boys at Rochester Fire.  Mark and his crew did a fantastic job and finished sixth overall in the competition, beating even the guys from Milwaukee.  And this wouldn't be much of a story without Jimmy Nickel.  He belongs to the "mature gent" group that I mentioned before and he finished with a time of 19:32.  What makes his story unique is that he found himself not able to go on at around the twentieth floor just like many of us but it wasn't from exhaustion, he needed a bathroom and he needed one fast!  So he ducked out onto one of the floors and in the dark he found a head, probably choked the thing, (have you seen the size of this guy?) and returned to the competition a couple of pounds lighter and as fresh as a daisy.

Some people!