Dreams

On the subject of me poo-pooing your dreams of one day racing pro, the mailbag brimmed with fervor and righteous indignation  Most of it was illiterate garbage.  But, in every pile of garbage, there is a snippet of brilliance, and this time that snippet was Dan:
www.thedanplan.com

I stand corrected.  Despite the fact that you are in your thirties, have never raced before, don't even know the rules, and, in the big picture, are without any meaningful amount of natural talent, you can still score a Nike sponsorship if you hate your job enough to just quit and give your dream a try.

A Dream, some hate, 10,000 hours to kill, and the Internet; apparently, the right combination thereof can take you a long, long way.  Most 30-something men in America have at least 3 of the 4.  Perhaps it's time you started figuring out what you're missing. 

thought provoking

Conveniently, the next 4 days will be of the sort of surreal, beautiful, introspective variety that you might just find yourself wondering about that anyway.  As your attorney, I advise you to rent a very fast car with no top.  And of course you'll need to track down Danny Flow, whose local popularity, van, and limited time make seeing him feel sort of like seeing Bigfoot:  unusual, fleeting, and with creepy, gigantic feet.

Naturally, I'll have to go with you, which blows my whole weekend.  But that's my commitment to you. 

I used to have a van...

Maybe your dreams are a tad smaller.  For example, Kev29er wants to be able to survive the SM100 and still be the righteous dad that he is.  So he's making time for it, and that time is very, very early.  Shawn has a notion to ride the Southern Traverse in the dark so we can't see the looming thunderstorms.  These are stellar ideas, albeit less of a stretch than beating Tiger Woods at his game, but for those of us without 10,000 hours to burn, they're at least a little closer to home. 

What I'm saying is, I'm in. 
Charge your shit. 


Up, up, up.