Synchro Sunday. Coming to Gearbox Magazine this weekend.

I’m gonna try it.

Perfection is the enemy of progress. Doesn’t matter if you’ve been trying to execute on your brilliant plan and life keeps throwing you curves. OODA loops, friend.

Observe, Orient, Decide, Act.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
This is life.

Part of me thinks it’s stupid committing to adding something to the already struggling weekly editorial calendar. And part of me doesn’t care, because this idea is simple and speaks to what the future of Gearbox Magazine is all about.

So here’s to Synchro Sundays. Coming THIS Sunday to Gearbox Magazine.

You never go “Full Pajero.”

But that’s what we did this past weekend.

I left work Friday, drove straight to Josh’s place in Mesa, and had dinner. And then we began removing Fezzik’s tired, leaky, smokey engine.

As usual, Fezzik drug his feet. We broke the last of the bellhousing bolts loose a little after 3AM Saturday morning. After a quick strategy sesh, we called it a night.

By 10AM, we were caffeinated and back at it in the shop. The engine came out soon after.

We pressure washed this. We painted that.

Due to a slightly confused part supplier, the heads weren’t ready, so we had to make a run up to Keith’s shop of Mitsubishi wonders to finish and clean them up for final assembly.

I thought we’d have the new engine stabbed by sundown Saturday. It was mostly assembled on the stand by 3AM Sunday morning when we decided to hold another strategy sesh and get Sunday scheduled.

I’d planned on being done by Sunday morning, allowing for some much needed sleep, breakfast, maybe even a brief trail run before getting home to V&P sometime between noon and 3PM.

You know, because it was Mother’s Day (and V is a Badass Mother).

Josh and I got Fezzik running again around 11PM. After the test drive and cleanup, I hit the road for home. Only took about an hour.

I finally crawled into my own bed at 1:39AM Monday morning.

My alarm went off at 5, 6, 6:30.

We went “Full Pajero.”

Reflection, Discovery, Metaphor

I discovered another powerful metaphor the other night.

You might find yourself working on a real piece of shit car one day. Think: hacked-up DSM.

It might seem like a great opportunity at first, but you’ll quickly realize it’s an absolute shit show. Cut corners, missing parts, no follow-through on anything. You know it will never be a high performance machine and feel stupid for getting scammed. Still, you’ll learn valuable lessons about what you really want.

You’ll make the jump to a truly high performance machine. Think: 400hp air-cooled 911.

Where you’ll quickly discover you don’t know shit from shinola. It’s the neatest machine you’ve ever worked on—but it’s also the hardest you’ve ever worked on a machine. You know you’re in the deep end, and you feel stupid because everything is so precise with this one. It’s not as easy.

It’s a double sucker punch. Duck. Dodge. Float like a butterfly. Sting like a bee.

Let me put it another way.

If you go from feeling stupid for considering yourself an expert—but missing all the red flags—to feeling stupid for considering yourself an expert—but not expert enough—that’s a red flag, too.

You’re a contender. You belong there. Step in the ring and fight.