I was the short Asian kid in a New York grade school, PS32, that got picked on and bullied. That’s what happens when you attend a school mostly populated by white, Italian and Jewish kids. I didn’t really have any friends to band together with for protection, so when the bullies came around to get my lunch money I was pretty easy pickins’ for them.
It worked like this: if I just handed it over they would let me off with maybe just a shove or punch, but if I resisted, they would form a circle and bounce me around like a piñata. Typical bully stuff I suppose. Either way, I went hungry for the day.
So somewhere along the way I decided that I didn’t like the way it felt inside to just hand over the money, and in fact I preferred to make them work for it. This eventually evolved to the point where I would pick myself up and throw rocks at them or yell obscenities after they had finished their shakedown, followed by them coming back and bouncing me around some more. I guess I just wanted things to be on my terms, not theirs.
Years later, that sort of stuff stopped happening when I learned to scrap and eventually learned to like that too. But, that’s a whole different story…
I guess the point is, I’m stubborn and like things to go my way. I think most racers are that way.
So here we are at Round 3 after 3 blown motors and sitting at the bottom of points standings. The SV500 will be down for at least a few more months while BRG rebuilds it again.
We have a new addition to the family, a Honda VFR400 I picked up from a friend. Her name is Seabiscuit and she’s sitting in the back of our RV right now. It ain’t gonna’ be easy, but nothing worthwhile ever is.
Fall down three. Get up four. 
there’s a similar expression that i’ve heard before… “1 tequila, 2 tequila, 3 tequila, floor.”
Reply
Son, Love your grit, then and now!
Reply