07-30-2020, 07:54 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-29-2020, 10:58 PM by Terry Bentley.)
Chapter 54
My last day at school learning how to type is finally over. I managed to type 34 words per minute without making any mistakes. Another guy that had been in several of my regular classes, Randy Thompson, managed to type almost 60 words per minute. We self checked our work, sort of on the honor system. For each mistake you deduct so many words.
I averaged a higher wpm, but dropped slightly with mistakes. After several repetitive tests, I maintained a solid word count. Able to stay very consistent. I could still type higher even adjusting for mistakes, but didnt consider that acceptable for myself. I slowed down a little bit, then no errors to adjust for. That I was happy about.
Randys word count was very impressive. I asked to see it. Well, that makes more sense. About every 6 to 10 words there is a mistake of some kind. Either misspelled or mistyped key. No way if he factored these in would his count be that high. I felt better now with my limited typing skills. Maybe will come in handy some day. Just think, instead of handwriting everything, in the future everyone will be pushing buttons on some type of electrical tablet. Yea right.
I took the long way home. Weather was decent and not too muggy today. It was time to figure out exactly what direction to go with the kart and engines. I head down Pine Bluff and over past Dorrington to St. Francis. Then make a fast left running the stop sign, cross the street and up on the sidewalk. Not really paying attention to anything in particular, my head jerks around to an open garage door.
For some unknown reason this bike seems to steer the same direction as my head. The handlebars turn quickly and I crash right into a bush in someones yard. Man that smarts. These scratches sting too. I pick up my bike and walk back a few houses. There sitting in the open garage is a racing kart. The garage is mostly organized and clean. Sure not going to pass this chance up.
As I am walking up to knock on the front door, a gate on side of the yard swings open and slams into the side of this house. Hey, punk, stop right there! You are not getting away with stealing anything from me today! I turn around and ask what he just said. At that moment my mind was somewhere else. Do what? I wasnt stealing anything. I just wanted to ask you about your racing kart.
Oh really? What do you know about racing karts? Well, he did ask the question. So I spilled my guts to him. Going on about everything I had done since the big wreck a few months ago. I didnt stop with just that. Then kept on with reciting just about anything I had absorbed from reading every kart magazine at my disposal.
OK, OK, OK! Maybe you were not trying to steal from me. So what is it you wanted to know? Well, I saw the kart when riding by. Where do you race it? The older man goes on about just moving down here from Ohio for a new job. He doesnt know what tracks are around anywhere yet.
He tells me the kart was bought earlier this year before moving. It is a prototype by Rupp. Its newer than the current model Dart Super K You know, Mickey Rupp. Nodding my head, Yea, I have seen the ads and read about him. That dude is some kind of awesome! The engine there was taken off his old kart. Just a Westbend 580. His now ex-wife had blindsided him with a divorce, so he had not bought the new motor yet. It was in the works before things happened. So his plans got changed.
He said the new engine was going to be a Power Products AH-58. But then goes on in detail about all of these modifications that are planned, eventually. Yet, for the motor he doesnt even have. Right now it is all on the back burner until he has time to shop around the local kart scene.
I ask if it is alright with him to check out his kart. He says sure, just dont get too sticky fingered. I ask what is with all the negativity and accusations. He then proceeds to tell me he knows very good and well about how kids are these days. He had to deal with enough of them already.
"In one of the better neighborhoods where I was living, it was a daily ordeal with the knucking fuckleheads. Things tended to just walk right off if I didnt have them chained down. Or at least a very watchful eye on everyone". Right as he said this his two fingers pointed at his eyes, then turned and pointed to me.
So why do you leave the garage door open with all this stuff sitting out here then? Well, I was just...So what is it about my kart that has you so interested anyway? Well its a racing kart. I am planning to start racing really soon. Is it alright with you if I sit in your kart? I have not seen one of these up close before.
Yea sure kid, just dont scratch the paint before I get a chance to try it out on the track. I sit down and notice how much different it feels compared to the Cates. This is very comfortable tho. I am sitting a little more upright. My legs dont quite reach the pedals, since they have to go around this wide steering hoop. The Cates only has a narrow sheetmetal upright to support the steering shaft.
I noticed this kart has the motor mount supported by two axle bearings instead of welded to the frame. Also bolted in front with rubber dampeners to the crossmember. The motor mount is really just a flat plate with sides welded on. Nothing fancy and not even painted. Guess it might be a better way to keep engine vibration down a little bit more.
This is cool. It is only the second racing kart I have even sat in before. The steering shaft is slightly smaller diameter than my Cates kart. It has a cast aluminum steering wheel like used on quarter midgets that is not a full circle. With my hands on the steering wheel, a little turn to the right and left. I notice this guy is tensing up slightly, so decide it is a good time to remove myself while still on speaking terms with him. I step up out of his kart. This is a really nice kart you have.
He holds out his hand and finally introduces himself. He is just slightly limp wristed and sweaty, but not nearly bad as some creeps I have shaken hands with before. My name is Frank Price. After my recent divorce, then a new job brought me down here. So a fresh new start on life. I sold the house, paid off the ex and bought that Volkswagen. Then drove down from Ohio with the small trailer over there.
My name is Terry. I just finished the 7th grade and headed to Jr High School in September. I have a rebuilt Cates kart and a few potential engines for it. Right now I will be racing in the Jr Bushing class. At least until I get some track time and maybe come up with a faster engine.
Crazy kart huh? Never heard of um. Must be some local backyard special. Am I right?
Frank is, I am guessing, probably around 40. He has nappy stringy hair that hangs down long. But he is bald headed on top. I mean chrome on the dome up there. He comes off more hot air than actually a jerk. Well maybe both. I will give him the benefit of the doubt right now, until he gives me a good enough reason to think otherwise.
Should I call you Mr. Price or is Frank alright? Just call me Frank. Thats my name most of the time. That will be fine kid. What do you do for work, Frank? He tells me he is an engineer with a college degree. Then asks if I want to see it? No thanks, thats alright, I believe you.
Originally he started working at a private contractor for Geophysical Service Incorporated about ten years ago. Shortly afterwards, it became a subsidiary of Texas Instruments, and management changed. So the small shop he was working for lost a bunch of its contract work. Since then he had kept his eyes and ears open for a better job.
It just so happened last winter right before his divorce, Texas Instruments had a job opening in Dallas. After this first life change, he decided to take the chance and made a career change at the same time. So he is a new stranger is a strange new land. Thinking to myself just then, strange is a very good word to describe Frank Price.
Looking around his garage my eyes make a full sweep and notice some interesting equipment I am not familiar with. On his work bench is a machine I have never seen before. Looks sort of like some type of press. What kind of stuff is this for Frank?
Just stay the he(( away from that. It is my reloading equipment. I load special cartridges and some wildcats. Build them to my own specs. Dont touch anything. It is all very highly precision equipment. Technical kind of stuff. Way over your head.
Sitting next to the reloading equipment, I see an Ohaus triple beam scale. Its an older model but almost identical to what the school has in the science lab. Hey cool, a tri-beam scale. I sure could use one of these at home. Does this come in handy when loading your highly precision ammo Frank? Yes it does. Without it, I would be up chits creek as they say.
I continue with telling him what I had been working on at home. Weighing the flywheels and learning all I can about modifying kart engines. I go on about the differences in weights of those cast iron flywheels. How surprised I was with two of them looking nearly identical but one weighed almost 6 pounds and the other was less than 5 pounds. Then how I was able to cut one down to just 4 pounds on the little Craftsman lathe.
He then made a point to make sure I was aware these scales are extremely precision and they dont measure in pounds. They are strictly calibrated only in grams. I then acknowledged him and said the measurements were converted to pounds for me to relate to easier. Since I dont have anything weighing in grams to compare to, so then the conversion.
I started to realize either Frank was trying to blow smoke up my butt or he was just competing against me with everything we talked about. Nothing I brought up seemed that interesting to him. But if he talked about it himself, then it was the smartest thing since sliced bread, or the only way there was to do it.
He tried several times to throw some technical jargon at me about different things. I was able to figure out what he was actually talking about. Then would interrupt him on purpose with a clarifying question. It stumbled him every time. I was sort of getting a big kick out of doing this tho. Maybe enjoying a little too much.
When I had mentioned about the bushing motors, since that is what the junior class runs, he just sort of smugly laughed it off. Like he was too good to ever run a bushing engine. I kept on talking anyway. After mentioning some very detailed ideas I had been tossing around in my head, he started to listen with a little more interest.
Hey, that is sort of interesting stuff there kid. For my Power Products engine I was thinking to do a lot more involved work. My goal is a Specialty Products cylinder head, Moss or Fuller domed thin ring piston. Eventually a Go-Power full circle crank kit. I think those flywheels are fairly lightweight. But maybe cut one down just for any rotational mass that can be reduced. All definitely in the plans for my engine.
Then I will add a Reed Engineering model 454 dual carburetor manifold with a pair of alky burning Tillys. Go-Power 6 petal pyramid reeds too. But until I am settled in more, will have to wait. I just picked up the newest model McHals helmet too. Have not even had a chance to try it out yet.
So Frank asks if I still have a need to weigh things? Yes sir, I have a whole list of things. Been using the scales at school in the science lab. A real headache to drag parts up there every time. I dont like walking in and interrupting the others in class.
Tell you what, I am usually home after 4 pm, and sometimes off on Fridays, like today. If you see the Volkswagen there in the drive way, I am usually around here. Most the weekends too, but I do sleep in late. If you need to weigh something, I guess it would be alright. That is, if it will help you out.
I certainly could make use of your scales Frank. Summer school will be out soon, and I wont have access to the lab anymore. Thank you, that is very considerate of you to offer. I sure dont want to become a burden tho.
Hey, kid, dont lay it on so thick. You are going overboard with your poor attempt to act all well and mannered. I can see right thru your bullchits. Be yourself. I am used to punks nowadays like in my neighborhood, and you are going way off the deep end.
I apologized for being myself and could try to be more like the punks he is used to. But needed some insight to achieve his wishes. His attitude about everything was starting to get me more than a little irritated just then.
Do I need to apply glue to my fingers before coming over next time? Will that help any? Then gave him my best ear to ear snarky grin. The muscles in is neck started to tense up. Wrinkles on his forehead became pronounced. With teeth clinched, he asked if I was mocking him. Just before I thought he was going to blow his top, he relaxed. Hey, good one kid, you got me there.
I said I sure didnt know how kids act where he comes from, but my parents tried raising me to respect everyone and even profanity was not considered acceptable in conversation at home. They would just about beat me to an inch of my life if I was ever found out for lying, cheating, or stealing. He looked at me and just chuckled. Yea, sure kid. Let me guess, next you are going to say unicorns and the tooth fairy are real too.
I told him his kart is really cool looking and a pleasure to meet him. Then said bye. He waved me off and said make sure to stop by again. Then blurts out WOOF, WOOF, WOOF. OK that guy is just a little way past weird.
But it is cool to have another kart in the neighborhood. Except Frank is a yankee. That sux. Oh well, nobody is perfect. I will try to look past some of those faults if he turns out to be a decent person. I still dont know whats up with the bulldog bluff he was using on me.
I head back home. It is about an hour later than usual. Once again I find Steve in the garage going on as if I was there working along side him on stuff. Whats up, Steve? Nothing at all, I was just bored and decided to head over. Hey man, where you been?
Steve, I found another racing kart in the neighborhood. Over there down the street from Jays house. Jay is a friend of ours. But is in a different school district. We all like to talk karts, small engines, bicycles, and anything that moves, more or less.
So who is the dude? Oh, just some yankee guy named Frank Price. He might be alright. But dont know just yet. Comes off as a jerk. Oh wow! So you and him must have hit it off great, huh? No Steve not really. But he did offer me the use of his scales to weigh some more stuff if I need to.
We talked a little about modifying engines. I got the idea he pays a lot more attention to the ads and just bolt on parts he reads about in magazines than actually doing real mods to engines. I want to know how well a certain part works in actual real world track racing conditions. Plus a comparison against the stock parts.
Reading some ad claiming it boosts horsepower so much is bogus. Just about every ad claims this nonsense. Back to back track testing would be a lot more realistic. If you add up all the power gains each part claims, well your lap times would go into negative numbers.
He kept going on about specific brands and expected me to be impressed. So were you? Huh? Were you impressed? To tell you the truth, I think he is some lonely guy that his wife ditched him for whatever reason and comes off a little too defensive.
You figured that out about him just by talking karts? Well no, it is more the way he was acting. Like when a wild animal is cornered. It isnt sure to stay calm or come out and defend itself, even tho there isnt any real life threatening danger just yet.
Again you figured this out by talking karts with some guy you have never met before today? Yea Steve, the guy seems very obvious about something causing him to be defensive. Just tried to put things together from stuff he told me. I am probably completely wrong about all of it.
Ok I believe you. Maybe we can both drop by next time and bench race with him. Then I will see if what you say makes any sense. K? Sure Steve, I would feel more comfortable with someone else there with me anyway. Next time we both go and maybe he wont be so uptight. Or he might be worse. Just to warn you the guy actually barks. Huh, like at the moon? Never mind, you can hear it for yourself when you meet him.
Ok if you say so. So.....So my landscape guy was really impressed with all that work I did on his old commercial mower. He paid me an extra $5 too. With the tip money I dropped by Lindop Hardware and picked up some stuff. I already replaced the grinding wheel that you caused me to explode. Grabbed a few 1/4" drill bits too. We seem to go thru a lot of those anyway. Oh and here, this is for you.
Steve pulls out a folded five dollar bill and hands it to me. Gee Steve, thanks. Now give me another five bucks or you will regret ever knowing me. I get the jump on him this time. Then grab his arm and twist it around behind his back. Then mock slam his head down on the work bench. Like you see in the movies. Are we good Steve?
Hey man. OK gee, you dont have to go all work bench in the face about it. Sure fine. Actually, this is what I was going to give you anyway. He hands me a ten dollar bill to go with the five already. It was worth this much to me for your help. Without it there is no way I would have been able to do the job at all.
Dude, I dont want this much money for helping. Ten bucks is way more than fair. I was just giving you a hard time. Sort of payback for that last fiasco you caused. I stuffed Ole Abe back in his shirt pocket. There, we are square with money to spare now. But you are buying the pops from 7-11. Or else.....you will regret ever knowing me. Saying in a gargled voice, grinning for all it was worth.
Steve seemed more than pleased with my decision to only take the $10. He spent $3 for replacing stuff that got broken. Made a five dollar tip. So his net was $17. He deserves to keep most of the money. It was his motivation that got the job anyway. He could have turned it down flat. But no way was he going to keep all of that money. Not if he is getting paid for work I am doing. That is crossing the line too far.
Hey, Steve, does the landscaping guy have a lot of equipment? Naw, not really. Only one dude helping him right now. He does most of the grounds work himself. The other guy is basically cleanup. I was hoping we could score big if he did have a lot of lawn tools. That would sort of put us in business. Way cool.
So what is on the agenda today? Its Friday, and you are done with typing class. OH! OH! I almost forgot! Lookie over there. I got something for you. Steve points to the desk in corner of garage and just busted out laughing.
My last day at school learning how to type is finally over. I managed to type 34 words per minute without making any mistakes. Another guy that had been in several of my regular classes, Randy Thompson, managed to type almost 60 words per minute. We self checked our work, sort of on the honor system. For each mistake you deduct so many words.
I averaged a higher wpm, but dropped slightly with mistakes. After several repetitive tests, I maintained a solid word count. Able to stay very consistent. I could still type higher even adjusting for mistakes, but didnt consider that acceptable for myself. I slowed down a little bit, then no errors to adjust for. That I was happy about.
Randys word count was very impressive. I asked to see it. Well, that makes more sense. About every 6 to 10 words there is a mistake of some kind. Either misspelled or mistyped key. No way if he factored these in would his count be that high. I felt better now with my limited typing skills. Maybe will come in handy some day. Just think, instead of handwriting everything, in the future everyone will be pushing buttons on some type of electrical tablet. Yea right.
I took the long way home. Weather was decent and not too muggy today. It was time to figure out exactly what direction to go with the kart and engines. I head down Pine Bluff and over past Dorrington to St. Francis. Then make a fast left running the stop sign, cross the street and up on the sidewalk. Not really paying attention to anything in particular, my head jerks around to an open garage door.
For some unknown reason this bike seems to steer the same direction as my head. The handlebars turn quickly and I crash right into a bush in someones yard. Man that smarts. These scratches sting too. I pick up my bike and walk back a few houses. There sitting in the open garage is a racing kart. The garage is mostly organized and clean. Sure not going to pass this chance up.
As I am walking up to knock on the front door, a gate on side of the yard swings open and slams into the side of this house. Hey, punk, stop right there! You are not getting away with stealing anything from me today! I turn around and ask what he just said. At that moment my mind was somewhere else. Do what? I wasnt stealing anything. I just wanted to ask you about your racing kart.
Oh really? What do you know about racing karts? Well, he did ask the question. So I spilled my guts to him. Going on about everything I had done since the big wreck a few months ago. I didnt stop with just that. Then kept on with reciting just about anything I had absorbed from reading every kart magazine at my disposal.
OK, OK, OK! Maybe you were not trying to steal from me. So what is it you wanted to know? Well, I saw the kart when riding by. Where do you race it? The older man goes on about just moving down here from Ohio for a new job. He doesnt know what tracks are around anywhere yet.
He tells me the kart was bought earlier this year before moving. It is a prototype by Rupp. Its newer than the current model Dart Super K You know, Mickey Rupp. Nodding my head, Yea, I have seen the ads and read about him. That dude is some kind of awesome! The engine there was taken off his old kart. Just a Westbend 580. His now ex-wife had blindsided him with a divorce, so he had not bought the new motor yet. It was in the works before things happened. So his plans got changed.
He said the new engine was going to be a Power Products AH-58. But then goes on in detail about all of these modifications that are planned, eventually. Yet, for the motor he doesnt even have. Right now it is all on the back burner until he has time to shop around the local kart scene.
I ask if it is alright with him to check out his kart. He says sure, just dont get too sticky fingered. I ask what is with all the negativity and accusations. He then proceeds to tell me he knows very good and well about how kids are these days. He had to deal with enough of them already.
"In one of the better neighborhoods where I was living, it was a daily ordeal with the knucking fuckleheads. Things tended to just walk right off if I didnt have them chained down. Or at least a very watchful eye on everyone". Right as he said this his two fingers pointed at his eyes, then turned and pointed to me.
So why do you leave the garage door open with all this stuff sitting out here then? Well, I was just...So what is it about my kart that has you so interested anyway? Well its a racing kart. I am planning to start racing really soon. Is it alright with you if I sit in your kart? I have not seen one of these up close before.
Yea sure kid, just dont scratch the paint before I get a chance to try it out on the track. I sit down and notice how much different it feels compared to the Cates. This is very comfortable tho. I am sitting a little more upright. My legs dont quite reach the pedals, since they have to go around this wide steering hoop. The Cates only has a narrow sheetmetal upright to support the steering shaft.
I noticed this kart has the motor mount supported by two axle bearings instead of welded to the frame. Also bolted in front with rubber dampeners to the crossmember. The motor mount is really just a flat plate with sides welded on. Nothing fancy and not even painted. Guess it might be a better way to keep engine vibration down a little bit more.
This is cool. It is only the second racing kart I have even sat in before. The steering shaft is slightly smaller diameter than my Cates kart. It has a cast aluminum steering wheel like used on quarter midgets that is not a full circle. With my hands on the steering wheel, a little turn to the right and left. I notice this guy is tensing up slightly, so decide it is a good time to remove myself while still on speaking terms with him. I step up out of his kart. This is a really nice kart you have.
He holds out his hand and finally introduces himself. He is just slightly limp wristed and sweaty, but not nearly bad as some creeps I have shaken hands with before. My name is Frank Price. After my recent divorce, then a new job brought me down here. So a fresh new start on life. I sold the house, paid off the ex and bought that Volkswagen. Then drove down from Ohio with the small trailer over there.
My name is Terry. I just finished the 7th grade and headed to Jr High School in September. I have a rebuilt Cates kart and a few potential engines for it. Right now I will be racing in the Jr Bushing class. At least until I get some track time and maybe come up with a faster engine.
Crazy kart huh? Never heard of um. Must be some local backyard special. Am I right?
Frank is, I am guessing, probably around 40. He has nappy stringy hair that hangs down long. But he is bald headed on top. I mean chrome on the dome up there. He comes off more hot air than actually a jerk. Well maybe both. I will give him the benefit of the doubt right now, until he gives me a good enough reason to think otherwise.
Should I call you Mr. Price or is Frank alright? Just call me Frank. Thats my name most of the time. That will be fine kid. What do you do for work, Frank? He tells me he is an engineer with a college degree. Then asks if I want to see it? No thanks, thats alright, I believe you.
Originally he started working at a private contractor for Geophysical Service Incorporated about ten years ago. Shortly afterwards, it became a subsidiary of Texas Instruments, and management changed. So the small shop he was working for lost a bunch of its contract work. Since then he had kept his eyes and ears open for a better job.
It just so happened last winter right before his divorce, Texas Instruments had a job opening in Dallas. After this first life change, he decided to take the chance and made a career change at the same time. So he is a new stranger is a strange new land. Thinking to myself just then, strange is a very good word to describe Frank Price.
Looking around his garage my eyes make a full sweep and notice some interesting equipment I am not familiar with. On his work bench is a machine I have never seen before. Looks sort of like some type of press. What kind of stuff is this for Frank?
Just stay the he(( away from that. It is my reloading equipment. I load special cartridges and some wildcats. Build them to my own specs. Dont touch anything. It is all very highly precision equipment. Technical kind of stuff. Way over your head.
Sitting next to the reloading equipment, I see an Ohaus triple beam scale. Its an older model but almost identical to what the school has in the science lab. Hey cool, a tri-beam scale. I sure could use one of these at home. Does this come in handy when loading your highly precision ammo Frank? Yes it does. Without it, I would be up chits creek as they say.
I continue with telling him what I had been working on at home. Weighing the flywheels and learning all I can about modifying kart engines. I go on about the differences in weights of those cast iron flywheels. How surprised I was with two of them looking nearly identical but one weighed almost 6 pounds and the other was less than 5 pounds. Then how I was able to cut one down to just 4 pounds on the little Craftsman lathe.
He then made a point to make sure I was aware these scales are extremely precision and they dont measure in pounds. They are strictly calibrated only in grams. I then acknowledged him and said the measurements were converted to pounds for me to relate to easier. Since I dont have anything weighing in grams to compare to, so then the conversion.
I started to realize either Frank was trying to blow smoke up my butt or he was just competing against me with everything we talked about. Nothing I brought up seemed that interesting to him. But if he talked about it himself, then it was the smartest thing since sliced bread, or the only way there was to do it.
He tried several times to throw some technical jargon at me about different things. I was able to figure out what he was actually talking about. Then would interrupt him on purpose with a clarifying question. It stumbled him every time. I was sort of getting a big kick out of doing this tho. Maybe enjoying a little too much.
When I had mentioned about the bushing motors, since that is what the junior class runs, he just sort of smugly laughed it off. Like he was too good to ever run a bushing engine. I kept on talking anyway. After mentioning some very detailed ideas I had been tossing around in my head, he started to listen with a little more interest.
Hey, that is sort of interesting stuff there kid. For my Power Products engine I was thinking to do a lot more involved work. My goal is a Specialty Products cylinder head, Moss or Fuller domed thin ring piston. Eventually a Go-Power full circle crank kit. I think those flywheels are fairly lightweight. But maybe cut one down just for any rotational mass that can be reduced. All definitely in the plans for my engine.
Then I will add a Reed Engineering model 454 dual carburetor manifold with a pair of alky burning Tillys. Go-Power 6 petal pyramid reeds too. But until I am settled in more, will have to wait. I just picked up the newest model McHals helmet too. Have not even had a chance to try it out yet.
So Frank asks if I still have a need to weigh things? Yes sir, I have a whole list of things. Been using the scales at school in the science lab. A real headache to drag parts up there every time. I dont like walking in and interrupting the others in class.
Tell you what, I am usually home after 4 pm, and sometimes off on Fridays, like today. If you see the Volkswagen there in the drive way, I am usually around here. Most the weekends too, but I do sleep in late. If you need to weigh something, I guess it would be alright. That is, if it will help you out.
I certainly could make use of your scales Frank. Summer school will be out soon, and I wont have access to the lab anymore. Thank you, that is very considerate of you to offer. I sure dont want to become a burden tho.
Hey, kid, dont lay it on so thick. You are going overboard with your poor attempt to act all well and mannered. I can see right thru your bullchits. Be yourself. I am used to punks nowadays like in my neighborhood, and you are going way off the deep end.
I apologized for being myself and could try to be more like the punks he is used to. But needed some insight to achieve his wishes. His attitude about everything was starting to get me more than a little irritated just then.
Do I need to apply glue to my fingers before coming over next time? Will that help any? Then gave him my best ear to ear snarky grin. The muscles in is neck started to tense up. Wrinkles on his forehead became pronounced. With teeth clinched, he asked if I was mocking him. Just before I thought he was going to blow his top, he relaxed. Hey, good one kid, you got me there.
I said I sure didnt know how kids act where he comes from, but my parents tried raising me to respect everyone and even profanity was not considered acceptable in conversation at home. They would just about beat me to an inch of my life if I was ever found out for lying, cheating, or stealing. He looked at me and just chuckled. Yea, sure kid. Let me guess, next you are going to say unicorns and the tooth fairy are real too.
I told him his kart is really cool looking and a pleasure to meet him. Then said bye. He waved me off and said make sure to stop by again. Then blurts out WOOF, WOOF, WOOF. OK that guy is just a little way past weird.
But it is cool to have another kart in the neighborhood. Except Frank is a yankee. That sux. Oh well, nobody is perfect. I will try to look past some of those faults if he turns out to be a decent person. I still dont know whats up with the bulldog bluff he was using on me.
I head back home. It is about an hour later than usual. Once again I find Steve in the garage going on as if I was there working along side him on stuff. Whats up, Steve? Nothing at all, I was just bored and decided to head over. Hey man, where you been?
Steve, I found another racing kart in the neighborhood. Over there down the street from Jays house. Jay is a friend of ours. But is in a different school district. We all like to talk karts, small engines, bicycles, and anything that moves, more or less.
So who is the dude? Oh, just some yankee guy named Frank Price. He might be alright. But dont know just yet. Comes off as a jerk. Oh wow! So you and him must have hit it off great, huh? No Steve not really. But he did offer me the use of his scales to weigh some more stuff if I need to.
We talked a little about modifying engines. I got the idea he pays a lot more attention to the ads and just bolt on parts he reads about in magazines than actually doing real mods to engines. I want to know how well a certain part works in actual real world track racing conditions. Plus a comparison against the stock parts.
Reading some ad claiming it boosts horsepower so much is bogus. Just about every ad claims this nonsense. Back to back track testing would be a lot more realistic. If you add up all the power gains each part claims, well your lap times would go into negative numbers.
He kept going on about specific brands and expected me to be impressed. So were you? Huh? Were you impressed? To tell you the truth, I think he is some lonely guy that his wife ditched him for whatever reason and comes off a little too defensive.
You figured that out about him just by talking karts? Well no, it is more the way he was acting. Like when a wild animal is cornered. It isnt sure to stay calm or come out and defend itself, even tho there isnt any real life threatening danger just yet.
Again you figured this out by talking karts with some guy you have never met before today? Yea Steve, the guy seems very obvious about something causing him to be defensive. Just tried to put things together from stuff he told me. I am probably completely wrong about all of it.
Ok I believe you. Maybe we can both drop by next time and bench race with him. Then I will see if what you say makes any sense. K? Sure Steve, I would feel more comfortable with someone else there with me anyway. Next time we both go and maybe he wont be so uptight. Or he might be worse. Just to warn you the guy actually barks. Huh, like at the moon? Never mind, you can hear it for yourself when you meet him.
Ok if you say so. So.....So my landscape guy was really impressed with all that work I did on his old commercial mower. He paid me an extra $5 too. With the tip money I dropped by Lindop Hardware and picked up some stuff. I already replaced the grinding wheel that you caused me to explode. Grabbed a few 1/4" drill bits too. We seem to go thru a lot of those anyway. Oh and here, this is for you.
Steve pulls out a folded five dollar bill and hands it to me. Gee Steve, thanks. Now give me another five bucks or you will regret ever knowing me. I get the jump on him this time. Then grab his arm and twist it around behind his back. Then mock slam his head down on the work bench. Like you see in the movies. Are we good Steve?
Hey man. OK gee, you dont have to go all work bench in the face about it. Sure fine. Actually, this is what I was going to give you anyway. He hands me a ten dollar bill to go with the five already. It was worth this much to me for your help. Without it there is no way I would have been able to do the job at all.
Dude, I dont want this much money for helping. Ten bucks is way more than fair. I was just giving you a hard time. Sort of payback for that last fiasco you caused. I stuffed Ole Abe back in his shirt pocket. There, we are square with money to spare now. But you are buying the pops from 7-11. Or else.....you will regret ever knowing me. Saying in a gargled voice, grinning for all it was worth.
Steve seemed more than pleased with my decision to only take the $10. He spent $3 for replacing stuff that got broken. Made a five dollar tip. So his net was $17. He deserves to keep most of the money. It was his motivation that got the job anyway. He could have turned it down flat. But no way was he going to keep all of that money. Not if he is getting paid for work I am doing. That is crossing the line too far.
Hey, Steve, does the landscaping guy have a lot of equipment? Naw, not really. Only one dude helping him right now. He does most of the grounds work himself. The other guy is basically cleanup. I was hoping we could score big if he did have a lot of lawn tools. That would sort of put us in business. Way cool.
So what is on the agenda today? Its Friday, and you are done with typing class. OH! OH! I almost forgot! Lookie over there. I got something for you. Steve points to the desk in corner of garage and just busted out laughing.