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Ok, I am starting to see a trend here when it comes to this social networking thing. First we had Myspace, it was the “bomb” according to most high schoolers, until of course a bored Mom started playing games with a teenager on it which resulted in an unhappy ending for the teenager. Next Facebook took over and is doing rather well if you can put up with all of the Mafia games, someone “sent you a beer” requests, “You acquired a new evil skill” notifications and so and so just found a new egg of some type. But the one which is getting to me is Twitter. I do not even use it and its language is moving into my world. There is becoming an annoying number of “Twitterisms”. For instance a headline I just read says, “Teacher uses Twitter for "Tweaching". You have, Twittocracy, Tweeple (The people who Twit, which I would just call them “Twits”, it seems more fitting.), Twittette Syndrome for the Tweeple who Twucking cuss all the Twod damn time in their tweets. Twitterholic is another one for a person who posts over 500 tweets a day. (Twuicide would describe what I would do, if I did nothing better than Tweet 500 times a day.) Next thing you know we will be going to the Twace Twack to get on our Twotorcycles, Twheelie bars or no Twheelie bars, to Twace. We will sit in the Twaging lane and then go through the Twaterbox in order to do a Twurnout before going to the Twine so we can watch the Twee and hopefully cut a Twerfect Twight instead of a Twed Twight so you can win the Twace. God forbid we have a Twreck on the pass and mess up our Tweathers or much worse suffer a Twingery, have to get in the Twambulance for a Twip to the Twospital. If all goes well and you win, AMA Twagbike will give you a Twurse, Twontingencies as well as a mention in Twaightliner. It is not like the English language does not already have enough annoying traits as it is, like my southern accent…(If I could just stop saying “Ya’ll” and cut “Hell” down to one syllable it would not be so bad.) We need to learn how to use the language we already have before we all sound like a bunch of Twittering idiots.
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Some of the things that are taught to us come from the most unexpected places. Over the last 4 years I have been drag racing, some very important fundamental lessons that not only pertain to racing but to life itself have become apparent. For instance, in regard to relationship communication, I found the GPS is not always correct. While I had adamantly insisted to Stephanie that it was. There was a three-fold lesson in this: 1. Sometimes the good old-fashioned map your significant other is holding is indeed more accurate then the GPS your significant other named with great disdain “Gertrude”. 2. Clear, concise, communication between you and your mate is extremely important in order to back up your RV with trailer a half mile to extricate yourself from the situation “Gertrude” put you in. 3. Explicative’s, whether stated out loud or muttered under your breath do not enhance “clear, concise” communication. In fact, they result in clear, defined dents in your trailer. Another relationship lesson learned is the one which some of us have done and all of us have the capability of doing. Make sure all parties you are traveling with are indeed in the vehicle when you leave the gas station. I will not go into great detail here, other than the fact I can assure you no good forms of communication result after turning around to go back and pick up the person you failed to notice was missing prior to leaving. Because of all of the driving we do to get to races, some of us may listen to satellite radio for hours on end. A new thing I have been learning is how to determine what type of audience listens to the XM/Sirius RawDog comedy channel by the commercials it plays. After determining what type of audience I think RawDog Comedy is, I feel like I need to take a shower and evaluate my reasons for liking RawDog. Commercials are supposed to be targeted towards a specific audience. In the case of RawDog I have come to the conclusion the audience is a bunch of Tax evading, credit card debted, Pencil dicked, get-rich-quick scheming people with big dark ugly bags under their eyes. First there are the commercials to help people eliminate or at least reduce the money owed on taxes. The guy doing this commercial speaks in a low soft voice much like Marlon Brando in the “Godfather”. I have learned by listening to this commercial I do not want to meet this guy so I will just continue to pay my taxes and avoid an always embarrassing for everyone “horse head” incident. Then there are the commercials from a company which informs you most of the clients they deal with have credit card debt in between 10,000 and 35,000 dollars. Did you know there is a secret way to reduce your credit card debt by up to 40% and this company can help you accomplish it? It is so secret the credit card companies do not want you to know it. Of course there is always the non-secret way to cure credit card debt, which is to pay the bill each month or just plain not use the card. Next there is the Prolifix commercial to help thicken your penis. Apparently women like short and thick as opposed to long and thin. This product comes with a free measuring device to check your results. I am guessing this device can also be used to check the ground clearance of your motorcycle in the staging lanes. The one I like informs you there is a way you can start a business without money or merchandise you have warehouse and still be able to sell the merchandise on Ebay. So let me see if I get this right. I sell an item on Ebay I do not have physical possession of, take the money from someone who bought it. Tell someone else who I have not met, to ship this item I have just sold, then send the shipper of the item “X” percentage of the money I got from the person who bought the item and hope it actually gets shipped to the person. Would it not be easier for the people who have the merchandise to begin with to sell it? Lastly, I have learned that there is a cure for the dark baggy eyes the Tax evading, credit card debted, Pencil dicked, get-rich-quick scheming people have. It is called Hydrolix and it stops your capillaries located under your eyes from exploding. I believe this thing called “sleep” works too. So you see racing does not only provide us with an avenue to cure our “need for speed”, but also helps to improve communication in our relationships and educate us in various other topics, however useless they may be. See ya on the track! |
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Ok, I have had compaints I am not writng enough new articles here. There are a couple of reasons for that, but first lets discuss the season opener in Valdosta, GA for AMA Dragbike.
Let's see how can I descriptively write what happened... How about, I sucked? Actually that in itself is not an entirely true statement. I only lost by a little bit in all three races in the 1st round. The races could have gone either way.
The big news is that I have been writing columns for www.dragbike.com I also write quite frequently in their forum which provides a great deal of information as well as amusement. http://forums.dragbike.com/forum_posts.asp?TID=11520
If you get a chance go check the articles out and frequent the site as much as possible. If you are into motorcycles you may learn something.
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Typically, what I write about is racing related, but since racing has a degree of finance involved I thought I would share this. As all of you know, interest rates are falling like a full tree. (Had to throw in some racing imagery.) This made me decide that now is a good time to refinance the house. Currently I am at 6.25%. A phone call placed to Bank of America put me in touch with Mortgage Loan Officer Michael Overson. Michael was extremely helpful giving me the information I needed to make a decision as to whether or not it would be more cost effective to go with a 15 year or 30 refinance package. Furthermore he did something that hardly anyone ever does in the world of large corporations, he called me back when he said he would. I usually have to call back through the huge intangible maze of prompts in order to find the person. Thanks to Michael I’ll be going with a 15 year refinance at 4.875% which will save me about 650.00 per month as well as take a few hundred thousand dollars off the interest of my loan. Just think about all the racing and modifications I can do to my bike with that! If you would like to contact Mike Overson here is his information: 888-293-0264 (Select option 1 twice) ext. 21548
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LOGANVILLE, GA A lot of the teams have a mascot of sorts or at the very minimum a theme. For instance Debbie Knebel and Pat Jones have Flamingoes and a general feeling of being on a tropical cruise in their pit area. Jimmy and Eeman Heisler have Chester the Cheetos Cheetah (Who occasionally has to get blown because he loses air.) The Paquettes, thanks to their daughter Brooke have Meat, Steak and Ham. Granted, Steak looks a little rough around the edges, but still comes to every race. One of the teams has a huge Florida Gator and the Baumbach’s… Well they have Toney. So, I decided I needed a mascot to fit my Hayabusa's paint scheme and it had to be something out of the ordinary, after much deliberation and thought I picked an “Abominable Sportbike Snowman”. It coincides with everything; my bike is blue and has white streaks like ice shards which could represent someplace cold, dark and forbidding where an Abominable Sportbike Snowman might hang out. Also, if you met an Abominable Sportbike Snowman in person, it would be intimidating at the very least. After looking around the house for a couple of hours I found the things I needed to build an Abominable Sportbike Snowman. It is amazing the places you have to look to find the parts to do this. During the construction process in the workshop our Jack Russell terrier “Bella” dropped a piece of my Abominable Sportbike Snowman in a small bowl of C-16 I had been meaning to get rid of. I thought that would add character to it, so I kept it. Not to mention an Abominable Sportbike Snowman probably would not be spotless anyway. Once it was finished I brought it upstairs for Stephanie to offer her opinion. The first thing she said once she walked in the door was, “What is that smell?” This is when I proudly displayed to her my Abominable Sportbike Snowman. Then I proceeded to tell Stephanie how the dog managed to get race fuel all over my Abominable Sportbike Snowman and that is why it had an odor. Later, I explained how I picked my Abominable Sportbike Snowman to be our mascot and how difficult it was to find all the parts to make my Abominable Sportbike Snowman. She looked at me with that look that women do so well, the one where they feel sorry for you, but don’t want you to know they do, because it might hurt your feelings after all the work you put into the ridiculous thing you are so proud of and said, “You suffer from Hebephrenia.” After all of that work, I ended up feeling like an ASS. So much for the mascot.
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Loganville, GA I was going to write this long drawn out month by month review of what happened this year in racing. Then I thought to myself, why would I do that? If everyone has read all of my previous articles they would already know what happened during the year.
So I decided to do this… I raced, raced again, raced again, melted the engine, fixed the engine, raced again and again and again.
Now I am to November and the World AMA Dragbike Finals in Valdosta, GA. (Who needs time travel?) Friday the 7th we were able to do 3 time trial runs. I had excellent lights .025 .027 and a .040. That was a good sign because the last few races you would think that I was taking Lunesta before each run. ( I like the moth in that commercial…)
The bike ran its usual numbers 9.53, 9.57 and a 9.81 in Street Fighter. Which absolutely chaps my @$%. Street Fighter is a 9.50 index class and I should run a 9.5 for qualifying. As it turns out I always screw up and run a number that is not even remotely close to the index.
On Saturday we had 2 more qualifying runs in each division. Sometime during the night, the “dark motorcycle imp” came in our RV, opened my brain and stole my reaction times. I had a -.063 a .114 followed by a .124 Not only did the imp take my reaction times, it screwed with the Hayabusa on the way out. Now the bike was running 9.6’s.
I had been having issues with the header bolts coming out after the last engine rebuild so I decided to take off the fairings on the turbo side and look at the bolts. They were all in. While I had the fairing off, I decided to clean the turbo filter. Typically I use a toothbrush to clean it after every race. This time I held it up to the light and noticed that some of the holes looked like they were clogged. Vince Woska let me borrow some brake cleaner and I shot it out.
My next run was a 9.414 at 150 mph. This is 2/10’s faster than I previously went and 6 mph faster. My next run I went 9.35. Now I have a problem, I do not know what to dial in at. This is the fastest I have ever ridden the bike.
Saturday night I had my first Pro ET race. I dialed in at 9.40 and ran a 9.31. That was letting off the throttle at the 1,000‘mark.
Sunday morning in Street ET I dialed in at 9.39. The first guy had a -.114 light to my .040 light. (The Motorcycle Imp gave back my reaction times.) I ran the bike out the backend to a 9.35.
In Street Fighter I lost with a 9.41 on a breakout pass. No more for me. I finished 12th overall in this division.
In the next round of Street ET I cut a .002 light to my opponents .269 light. Needless to say I caught up with him by the 1/8 mile mark and proceeded to feather the throttle for the rest of the race. I ran a 9.63 at 118 mph on a 9.39 dial in. The next round I got the bye run due to the previous good reaction time.
The next round I had to run Jimmy Heisler. He is a good friend, along with his wife Eeman. Currently, Jimmy was in 2nd place in the points and needed to get by me to win 1st place for the season. I told him he was going to have to beat me because I was not going to let him have it. He asked if I would take 250.00 to throw the race. I told him he would not be happy if he won the race knowing I threw it. After a brief pause he said, “Yes I would.”
Jimmy dialed in at 10.31 I stayed at 9.39. Jimmy cut a .100 light to my .063. I caught him at the 1,000 ‘ mark, chopped the throttle and got on the brakes. I ran a 9.361 at 135 mph to his 10.38 at 118 mph. Back at the line Stephanie and Eeman were wondering what the hell we were doing, they did not think we were really going to race that hard. If they were in our shoes, they would have said their bike broke for the other person to win the championship.
That win gave Jimmy the Street ET Championship and me a respectable 6th place finish for the season. There were 196 bikes in the division. For me that race was the most fun of all of them.
Before we could go home we had to go to Santa Fe College in Gainesville, FL to talk to some students in the automotive class. Around 11pm on Sunday night I pulled into an RV park in Alachua, FL. Typically, there is a late night drop box for hookup fees. At this place there was a sign that said to pay at the front desk in the morning.
I had to be at the school at 8:30am, so at 8 am we pulled up to the office and I went in to pay. I handed her my debit card with teeth marks from a Jack Russell on it. She pointed to a sign under the glass on the counter that said, “ No Credit or Debit Cards. Cash or Checks only”. I don’t know about all of you but I have not used a check in 9 years, I had 5 bucks in my wallet and when I pooled that with all of Stephanie’s money I had 5 bucks.
The lady suggested I go down the road to the gas station to use the ATM. We get to the gas station and I figure I’ll fill the RV up while I go in and get some cash. When I come out the pump had stopped at the irritating 75.00 mark when the pump should know damn well I am filling up an RV and go to 150.00. I figure that is good enough to get to the college, jump in the RV and head back to the RV park.
Once in the RV I start ranting to Stephanie as to how stupid it is in this day and time that they do not take debit cards. This rant went on until I pulled up to the office.
Right then my phone rings, I look and see that it is a Florida prefix. I figure it is the college calling to reschedule.
“Hello.”
“Did you forget something?!” Says an irritated voice that sounds like Stephanie.
“Stephanie? Where are you calling from?”
“I am at the gas station where you left me!”
Apparently, she got out of the RV to get a cup of coffee while I was there.
The ride home was largely conversation free.
See you all next year! Have a great holiday season!
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Loganville, GA I apologize to those of you who actually take the time to read my articles for not writing in a timely fashion. I have been quite busy recruiting students for next year’s Heidelberg apprentice program and have finally got a chance to write. As those of you who read my articles know, my engine was melted and is now back together. Prior to the Ohio race I went to Maryland International Raceway to do some shakedown runs and possibly get a spot on Rich Christensen’s new endeavor “Arm Drop Racing”. It is kind of a mix of “PINKS” and “PINKS All Out”. I did not get on that, but I did have a good weekend testing the bike. It ran fine and I was awesome on the tree. My worst light was a .047. On the way to Norwalk we had to stop at 2 Technical Colleges. Also, we had our new Jack Russell Terrier “Bella” with us for her first extended road trip. When we got to Ohio for a meeting at Owens Tech in Toledo, we decided to stay in an RV park just over the border of Michigan in Monroe. It was a KOA that apparently doubled as a park for the locals. It had a catch release pond and next to that a pond for swimming with a beach type area along with a bunch of structures for kids to play on. You can tell this place had been here awhile because it had not come to terms with rest of the world concerning lawsuits and playground equipment. It had the old fashioned kind of equipment that we look at nowadays as Spanish Inquisition torture devices. You remember the 10 x 10 X 10 foot tall cube made of 2” pipe as a kid? We used to play “King of the mountain” on one like it. When you knocked someone down through it, they looked like they were falling through a Pachinko machine. I never knew a body could contort in so many ways. This may be the only one still in existence, other than the one in Wisconsin at the Museum of Historic Torture Devices. The catch and release pond was supposedly filled with Bass, Bream and Catfish. I am guessing the later was the only fish in there. I fished it in the evenings and did not see a thing along the edges let alone get a bite. It may have had something to do with the artificial looking teal green water. While there we had to do laundry, so I went to the office to get quarters for the machines. There was a guy in the store who seemed to run the place. When he handed me my quarters he completely missed my hand and they fell back down on the lower part of the counter by him. He picked them up and went to put them in my hand, only to miss again by a few inches. After the third time he lays his hand flat on the counter top and says, “Notice anything”. I wanted to say, “Other than your lack of coordination, no”. Fortunately, before that came out of my mouth, I noticed he was missing his pointer finger. He told me he still thinks the finger is there and always misses when trying to put change in someone’s hand. I was going to suggest the fact he has a perfectly good left hand, but decided to let it go. What does all of this have to do with racing you may ask? Nothing. Friday night they offered test and tune for 25.00, so I took advantage of it, as well as 300 other people. So I got 2 passes. Both were 9.53 and some change. Two things became apparent in these passes, one, my shift light developed a mind of its own and two, my lights suck, both were over .119. The shift light continued to have issues throughout the whole weekend. It would start blinking whenever, sometimes it would stay on. Needless to say I had to use the tach. My lights also continued to have issues, I looked like I had never raced before. My best light for the whole race was the -.006 I cut in Street Fighter. The other thing that was amazing was my times. I ran 9.53 all weekend except for one 9.48 pass , a 9.51 and two 9.7’s. The problem with the 9.7’s was that I ran it in a 9.50 index class. Go figure. Yet another problem was our dog was acting like a female dog in heat. Because she was. Stephanie had sheets all over everything to keep the place from looking like a scene from "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre". In my first Street ET race I won because the other guy went red. In my 2nd Street ET race I went red. This seriously sucked because the guy I was racing had a pin fall out of his air shifter and could not change gears. The ease of winning this race for me would have been the equivalent of walking up behind Helen Keller, tapping her on the shoulder and saying, “Your it”. (Obviously this was the Helen Keller prior to regaining all of her senses. Something I still find incredulous...) In Street Fighter I red lit. No surprise there. Incredibly, I am in 9th place in both Street ET and Street Fighter with a shot at getting in the top 5 with the last race in Valdosta, GA. Hopefully by then I will be able to cut a light again…
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Loganville, GA The last race in Indy did not go so well due to engine problems.
One thing I failed to mention in my previous article is the fact denial also plays a large part in the racers psychological profile.
You see, I knew I had something going on in my engine, and I wanted to tell myself it was a simple head gasket issue. Denial was giving me the confidence to ignore my sub-conscious which was telling me it was something much more complicated and expensive.
So up until Saturday when I received a phone call from Brian Livengood, I was feeling pretty good about the head gasket theory.
When in fact it was my pistons had melted. This is significantly different than a head gasket issue. Not to mention significantly more expensive.
Apparently two things could have happened.
1. The compression was higher in the cylinders than we thought it would be based on what we were told about the piston specifications.
2. I ran lean.
Option 2 does not seem possible since we dyno tuned the bike and the air fuel was set to the specifications of Velocity Turbo.
Option 1 may be the case although we hope not.
During the piston cookout, my valve may have taken a beating. Also my cylinders lost some plating due to the heat. So these items are going to need some repair also.
If any of you faithful readers want to have a hand in the repair of my bike so I can continue racing and therefore be able to write these insightful blogs, feel free to make donations to my Paypal account under paulcav@earthlink.net. If you do make a donation of 10.00 or more, send me your address and I will send you an autographed 28x40 poster.
If you don’t… you can still read my blogs, I am going to fix the bike and keep writing anyway.
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Apprentice Program if you are looking for a job. I am hiring.
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Ok, first I would like to state the fact I am not a psychologist (A person who holds a doctorate in psychology) or a psychiatrist (A person who holds a medical degree along with a doctorate in psychology.). So anything stated from here on out is purely speculation based on my actual psychosis or from personal observation of other people with mental issues.
As a racer it has been posed to me that I must be “crazy” to drag race a motorcycle. (Which makes me speculate as to whether or not people would think this if I drag raced a car?) (Which also makes me question the roll cage rule a car has, I go just as fast and I don’t have to have one… but I digress.) (Sentences in parenthesis are possibly a form of schizophrenia, “voices in the head” thing.) I have also been told that I am “insane” to participate in such a sport.
Growing up, psychological assessments were never thrown around so flippantly. If you were in school and one of your classmates was bouncing off the walls, it was because he had been eating contraband candy bars he bought from the black market playground candy dealer. Back then you just called them “Hyper” or “Spaz” which was slang for spastic. I knew plenty of kids whom were “hyper”. Nowadays, we use the term ADD or ADHD. Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, a mental illness that has a name and a very detailed description, with no known cure other than prescribing a bunch of Ritalin. Ritalin is basically a drug that reduces the exuberance a child may exhibit.
I am glad this new term was not around when I was growing up. It was a lot more fun to say, “Dude you are such a spaz!” Than to try and say, “Dude are you Attention Deficit… “you get my point.
Another term that flys around quite a bit is OCD for Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. The term I was familiar with until this one came along was “Anal Retentive”. Basically, this mental issue encompasses ones desire to perform various rituals in order to get through their day. A thing like making sure the front door is locked before going to bed… 8 times. Brushing your teeth… 10 times per tooth after cleaning the toothbrush every 7th brush stroke. Making sure the lights are turned off in a room, by flicking the switch 12 times to make sure it stays in the off position.
The problem with people who are OCD is that they exhibit a huge amount of anxiety if they do not perform these rituals. This usually leads to the manufacturing of more rituals to make sure the other rituals are done. Ultimately, there are too many to remember and the result is a complete mental critical mass, a Chernobyl of the brain.
Bi-polar is one of my personal favorites. Do you realize someone came up with the term Bi-polar because it sounded better than Manic-Depressive?. Apparently, there is a stigma with the words manic and depressive being used to describe someone. That’s funny, because nobody seems to think there is a stigma when the word “Asshole” is used to describe a person with bi-polar tendencies.
A person with bi-polar disorder bounces off the walls, wants to be everyone’s friend, feels amplified exhilaration and likes to party until the world ends one minute. Then wants to be behind four walls, stay away from everyone they know, become insanely depressed and be the reason the world ends the next. They are like magnets with no control over their poles. The strange thing is bi-polar tendencies are very difficult to diagnose and multiple assessments are needed by many different people to determine whether or not someone has it.
CFS or Chronic Fatigue Syndrome is another relatively new one that was popular in the mid 90’s. According to the CDC in Atlanta in 2006 it affects more women than men between the age of 40 and 50. In essence the description of the malady is one day your fine and you like to work and the next day your tired and do not ever go back to work.
In some psychological circles the shorter description of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome is “Lazy”. I am guessing amongst the professional crowd there is a stigma associated with using this word to describe a patient also.
I think people afflicted with CFS did not want to be called lazy anymore so they formed a committee with a group of psychologists and came up with CFS. It was a win, win situation. The lazy people did not have to be called lazy anymore and the psychologists could charge for the treatment of laziness.
In practice this back fired for both parties.
For the psychologist a couch potato with CFS was too enraptured with Oprah, Ellen and Tyra Banks to come to their appointments. In a group of people with other mental disorders, the person with CFS ran in to the problem illustrated below:
Telling everyone you are ADD is kind of cool because you can blow it off as being interested in a lot of things and not being able to stay with one too long or you get bored. A person who is OCD can brush it off by saying they were just making sure all of the dishes were stacked in the same place they were an hour ago. Bi-polar is cool because your fun at least half of the time. But if you pull out the CFS card all of the other mentals look at each other then point at you and say “Lazy bum”.
This stopped CFS from becoming a “chic” mental illness.
Now I know after this huge education on the popular mental illnesses, you are wondering how it pertains to racing. I’ll show you…
I am having a great day; I am at the race track with Stephanie, all of my friends and fellow racers. I love being with everyone. The weather is not as good as it could be but who cares I am racing. This is what it is all about.
They just called Street ET so I have to get ready; I grab my helmet and gloves off of the shelf in the trailer, the leather jacket off of the hook. I have to pump up the air pressure for the air shifter to 100 psi. I roll the bike out of the trailer, pull the fast idle, start it and wait until it gets to 160 degrees, turn off the fast idle and drive to the line.
In line before the burnout box I put on my safety kill tether. Then I drive to the water box. I back in to it, spin the tire up to get it wet, roll forward, pop the clutch at 4k rpms while holding the front brake, rock the bike to the right, then to the left, then to the middle, pull the clutch, let off the brake, ease out the clutch and drive to the stage lights.
I pull down my visor, roll forward until the first beam is lit and wait for the other racer to light his first bulb, then roll the throttle to 5500 rpms and roll towards the second stage light.
Now I am waiting for the other guy to light up his second stage light. What is taking him so long? Is he an idiot or something? Is he going to eating lunch or what? What the hell? Crap, do they just let anyone race? Let’s go already! Does he have a clue what he is doing? Finally! He staged, it’s about time.
The lights are coming down 1, 2, 3, GO!
SH$%, DA^&, F$%^, I red lit! I hate this friggin sport. Why the hell is it so damn hot out anyway? I am sweating like a 12 year old at Neverland. What kind of fool would wear leathers in this heat? I am such an idiot; it was entirely my own fault for being impatient. It was not my fault, something must have been wrong with the staging lights. It was someone else’s fault.
Back at the trailer Stephanie comes up to me for consolation. I would like to be alone right now, I want to sit in the RV, I don’t feel like talking. Yes, I realize the light went red, thank you for pointing out the fact I screwed up. Are you against me now?
Does anyone have any Paxil or Zoloft? I am tired, I don’t feel like racing anymore.
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