This year is taking off like a rocket! Literally (more on that shortly) and figuratively. I have just received word that the 2012 racing season is pretty much mine, if and how I want it. Win or lose, one thing is for certain: You, my lovelies, have opportunity to be with us every step of the way. Green to Checkered. No more unfinished business or unscheduled sabbaticals, since I have promised my racing buddy and sister in crime, Margie, that my literary prowess will be on it like an accident lawyer on a meatwagon, or keeping with the theme: On it like a crash truck on Miss Busa’s Beemer. Pinky swear.
In return, she’s going to pull off one hell of a project in 2013; if we don’t kill ourselves first.
Now back to dancing around in my living room singing praises to the God of Speed…
Dear Miss Busa,
It has come to my attention that you have become infamous with my colleagues at work. As I was gearing up for a nice little ride on my motorcycle; you know that thing that works IF you keep it upright at speed? Anyway, as I was getting ready, Bobby walked over to me to say hello. The following is the conversation as close as I can recall:
Bobby: “Heya, Joe!”
Me: “Hey, Bobby! How’s it going?”
Bobby: “Pretty good. Great weather to ride, huh?”
Me: “Yes it is. Where’s your ride? I see you are cruising around in that big new Ford of yours.”
Bobby: “Yep, but I’m about to start riding my Hog again. The gas prices are killing me.”
Me: “Uh-huh, save some of that green.”
Bobby: “Got that right! Say where’s our girl, Crash?”
Me: “She wrecked her bike. Guess following me to work in the truck isn’t as much fun as riding.”
Bobby: [looking incredulous] “She wrecked it again? How freakin’ fast was she going this time?
Me: “A little over 120 miles an hour.”
Bobby: [now chuckling] “Guess the roads are safe again … for a little while.”
As you can plainly see, you are reinforcing your reputation with your latest antics at the track.
This is a desperate plea to you. I am begging you! When I said to come back with your shield or on it, I didn’t think you’d take me so literally. I want you to win, but gee whiz, I thought you’d do it in the customary way, you know: first across the finish line. Well, I guess if you’re going to be Number One in crashing, we should lobby WERA to include a Crash Class in the award ceremonies.
“… and Miss Busa wins the Golden Turd for the most impressive and expensive lowside this weekend.”
I have written the acceptance speech for you, too:
“I’d like to thank WERA for putting on a great weekend; the corner workers for schlepping my bike out of the gravel trap yet again, I know you guys are getting tired of it, so thank you; many thanks go out to the medics who have conveniently relocated the ambulance to wait near Turn 1. You guys rock! I would also like to thank my sponsors: BMW Parts Division, FedEx for their awesome overnight service, Bondo, and Blue Cross & Blue Shield of Georgia. Last, but not least, I need to show my gratitude to my mechanic; however, I’ve done this so often, I’ll have to start working on my own shit.”
Anyway, my point is: congratulations, you’ve earned renown points. I love you, Babe, you keep doing what you’re doing, if you aren’t crashing, you aren’t trying.
Your loving sponsor
The race pics are up. Feast your eyes on the awesome work of Kendrick Kirk who runs MotoHD.net and was our track photographer for the weekend. I have a feeling though, that Kendrick would have rather been out there with us playing on the track than being stuck behind his Canon. I always buy the track photos to support the guys and girls who give us the opportunity to get some kickass pictures of ourselves doing what we love to do. Besides, you get your lens into way more places with a media pass than Mr. Slow ever dreamed of. He, of course, makes up for his shortcomings with the size of his lens. To the Slow One’s defense, he did catch me with my knee down.