Monday, July 17, 2006

But I Didn't Yell It At Any Junior-High Girls...

Not too bad of a weekend even though it wasn't the best... Last week's tire-measurement change certainly helped, and the track was beautiful -- it's been a long long time since we've had one stay moist through the features. The Heat race was nice and the car felt good 'til I lost the rear tire on the other side... Yeah, it sucks to not be able to finish, but it happens every now and then.

The 'Bago's maiden voyage was less-than-stellar, but at least we made it there and made it back home. Apparently it has a few electrical problems, and there's a possibility everything electrical is interconnected. All these years I've just kinda figured that those Ford E4OD transmissions had their own computer stuff possibly connected to the main ECM, but I'da never dreamed the same "Gremlins" would effect the everything from Brake Lights and Blinkers to Rear Cabin Heat & Air to the E4OD trans all at once, all at the same time.

On the way up, we closed the walk-through and I sat in the middle up front for the sake of air conditioning; on the way home, I figured it wouldn't be as hot in the dark with a little air moving, and I could stretch my sweaty self out on the couch and nap a bit. Once I'd managed to prop open the windows in the curb-side door and the two back bumper doors, there was a pretty good bit of air moving through and it was alright back there.

I kicked off my shoes and stretched out on the couch, and after I'd called Mom to say we were headed back, I tossed my phone in my purse and didn't think too much more about it. I had to get up a time or two and re-prop the windows that kept fallin' down, and a time or two I saw a flash up toward the front of the left wall. I tried to look around and see where headlights of oncoming cars would reflect, I thought it might be my phone, I thought it might be a seatbelt buckle swingin' around and catching the light...

When I felt a little bit of a swerve, I went to the rear-facing seat to lean into the walk-through and see if everything was okay up front -- and when I sat down, I heard a few little cracks & pops. Not reflections, not phone blinks, honest-to-God electrical pops, the stuff house fires are made of. That mass of wires where they pulled out the rear cabin control panel was gettin' bounced around enough to throw off a few sparks, and I even though I wasn't thrilled to hear that the ol' 7.3 had lost oil pressure, I was glad we were stopping 'cause I wasn't about to reach in there in the dark and try to stop the wires from touching.

We stopped in Nowata to hunt up some oil and about the time we got off the highway and into a parking lot, the sparks stopped. In all the running around trying to find a flashlight and some oil, I leaned back in the curb-side door and was a little puzled to hear a fan running. The rear cabin air unit had came on. Well, not air, but heat. Yeah, nice, huh? Once we were moving again, even though the OD light was flashing (which usually means the E4OD trans has a problem, like a fuse or somethin' like that), thankfully, the sparks had stopped. The open windows were enough to outdo the heater as long as I sat in the right spot, so it wasn't too bad.

As we came into the edge of Skiatook, the heater stopped and the sparks came back.

Well, at least we made it there and made it back.

I still think the 'Bago will be a pretty sweet deal once we get the bugs worked out. If we can figure out somethin' for that control panel and maybe help out it's tired ol' diesel, it'll make a nifty pullin' rig.




About That Title...



A while back, quite a while, before I got away from that d@mn message board; I let somebody have it for yelling at a couple girls under the pressbox. I figured if I was gonna catch heII for something I did in the dark in the pits after the races (see earlier post), I wasn't about to let somebody get by with pullin' sh!t under the lights in the middle of the crowd during the Outlaw A.

I'm 5'6" give-or-take a quarter, I'm not particularly tall but not particularly short. The girls I saw him yelling at were about shoulder-high to me, give-or-take a bit, so I'm sure they were junior-high age or younger; and he was probably forty-some (throwin' a guess there) and he was the flagman at another track. Screaming "____ ____ SUCKS!!!" at anybody is a little unprofessional for a flagman even when he's not working, and screaming "____ ____ SUCKS!!!" at kids is just gunky no matter who's doin' it. He tried to say it was ____ ____'s wife that he was yelling at, but I still just don't really think that could be true -- Elvis believed in findin' 'em young, but I don't think ____ ____ is married to anybody that young. Whether or not ____ ____ actually did suck was not my issue; he raced in a different class from me, I hadn't been on the track with him, at the time, I didn't care if he sucked or not...

But I'm sayin' it now, "____ ____ SUCKS!!!"

If you're faster, fine, come around -- but if you're faster, you should be skilled enough to come around without smashing everything close to you. If it's Fast, you don't have to make it Wide. If you're comin' around, come on around and go on, there's not any need to cut it down on me and make me have to slam the brakes to keep from knocking you into the infield.

I don't want to be that one car that nobody trusts 'cause it's always outta control. When he came down on me, I let out to keep from spinning anybody out, because hey, You have to "Be Respectable" to earn any respect from anybody -- and bashing somebody just 'cause they're there just doesn't seem very Respectable, does it?

Apparently he got sent to the back for other reasons, and had the opportunity to come around me again... Now, I'm not goin' into who's legal and who's not, that's a whole 'nuther fit to pitch and I'm sure y'all have already figured out he's probably not runnin' legal; but like I said before, If you're faster, be Faster, not wider, not rougher, not nastier. Like Mel the cook on "Alice" says, "The Best Defense Is A Good Offense." If it's fast, you don't have to drive it wide to keep anybody from gettin' around you.

I let out when he came down half-sideways in front of me 'cause I'm tryin' to be decent and respectable, I did not spin him to the infield even though I had a bulls-eye chance; and then the next chance he got, he rammed me in the ass as hard as he could -- and that's why I think "____ ____ SUCKS!!!"

Yeah, ____ ____ Sucks Big Green Ones, and everybody who heard me yelling was over thirty.

More later... _\,,/

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