I had an idea, then, no.
What if I got up at 5 on Saturday and installed V’s new stereo, then skipped the pool party in order to get a solid four to six hours in on #nlgs18?
Well, Shannon had bought a LOT of food, and Chef and Angie were going, and damn. It’s been a while since I’ve been in a legit swimming pool. Phoenix summers are brutal without one.
I got the stereo installed. Went the twisty-tape route because it doesn’t really matter at this level. And it was nice to be out front, working on a car project while the neighborhood was quiet.
Rod, the local tomcat, reappeared for the first time in a couple weeks. Followed by his daughter. Followed by four of her daughters, each no more than six inches long.
The install was a complete success. The Juke has never sounded so good. The factory deck made little use of the $500 in Kenwood and JL components I’d installed last year for V. This thing shakes all the mirrors.
And then we went to Shannon’s for the pool party. We spent the day.
It was nice to fall into bed around 9PM and know I’d be getting at least seven hours of sleep.
Recharged. Ramp up. Repeat.
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.