
Rejoice: Curves Ahead
I’m just an old, red-blooded male whose mid-life crisis was a few miles ago. Like most males my age, I tend to think of only one thing: watching TV in peace.
I’m just an old, red-blooded male whose mid-life crisis was a few miles ago. Like most males my age, I tend to think of only one thing: watching TV in peace.
Moving away from that depressing topic that is the Black Plague (a.k.a. BP), let’s ironically talk about track days, where we get to burn lots of gas in good conscience.
I attended my sports car club meeting last night for the first time in about 10 years. It’s a typical sports car club meeting, one where we men think we’re race car drivers and the women indulge us and drink wine. There are a few actual racers in the club, and more than a few fast drivers, and a lot of just old guys like me from the Walter Mitty School of Performance Driving.
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