Gone Racin'


Editor's Notebook, September 2001

 

 

T.W. Theodore

Wouldn't you love to hang a sign on your door that says, "Gone Racin'. Back When I Get Here". You'd just load your race car in your trailer, head out to the first race you could find, and keep going from one race to another.

 

Wouldn't that be great?

 

Instead, we spend most of our time not racing. Even those of us lucky enough to be involved in the sport spend most of our time not racing. We may be thinking about racing, planning on racing, scheming to get the money to go racing, dreaming of racing, justifying our racing to our families/spouses/bosses/neighbors and everyone else who doesn't understand why we want to go racing. But we aren't, damn it, racing!

 

Most of us, myself included, also have the added pesky burden of having to actually make some money. I've been plagued lately to be very busy in this latter endeavor. My clients don't seem to understand that I'd rather be racing, or talking about racing, or planning on racing, or dreaming of racing, than to be spending my time on their concerns which, by comparison, seem frivolous.

 

[Discaimer for any of my clients who might read this. I'm speaking to a group of racing addicts, here. Any relationship between what we consider essential or frivolous and what rational folk consider essential or frivolous is completely unlikely. When I'm working on your behalf, I promise to remain rational.]

 

More than one race car driver has said that racing is life, the rest is just waiting. If you understand what they mean, you know how I'm feeling right now.


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