The Horsepower Gene


Today while tinkering away under the hood of my car a neighbor briskly walked up to me as if something were wrong. “Man whats wrong with this thing now?”, “Dont you get tired of working on it?” For some reason people always seem to find the best time to interrupt me while im minding my own pleasure. The time when im right on the brink of something, or so frustrated that stopping for ten seconds to bullshit with a neighbor will pull me out of the funk im in. But id say 1/2 of the time its the latter. Look, if you’ve ever owned a older car you know just as well as i that shit breaks. Things happen that are out of your control. My car has 260,000 miles on it, something is bound to need repair. ive come to realize cars are like school, some people got it, some people dont. The beauty of that, is i know i got it.

Coming from a background of parents who utterly love all racing forms and whom also met at a race track, leads one to believe that i inherited the horsepower gene. My more refined thought process leads me to believe, that my parents had some help. Cars have shown me wonderful things, taught me wonderful things, and most importantly introduced me to the largest group of beautiful people on this planet. Not beautiful because of looks, or because of what particular car they tend to obsess over, but beautiful because of heart, because of passion. Passion in the dictionary is defined as follows: Strong and barely controllable emotion. The dictionary is a wonderful way of seeing what a word means, but actually experiencing it proves much more profitable. Thoroughly discussed with my mother, the meaning of the word passion is best laid out, and easier to understand with the way she quotes it. This quote will live with me until the day i die; “Davey passion is all about finding the one thing that makes you smile when you get up in the morning.” Luckily, the list of things that make me smile in the morning is larger than one. But at this moment in time, that one thing is cars.

The barrage of quotes my neighbors tend to give me only provides me with, for lack of a better term, ammo to help instill the fact that my passion is correct. Cars provide a humbling get away to relieve stress and tension, along with accomplishing a goal. Since the age of 20 there has not been a week that goes by, that the supra has not kicked my ass or taught me a lesson in one form or another. The amount of knowledge, skill, pride, and sense of accomplishment is something that i don’t really feel could be achieved through anything else. Coming in with hands full of cuts, bruises, and blood has given me fuel to my never ending fire.

As i touched on previously, cars have also put me in a great position to meet tremendous people. i was 18 years old, young, stupid, caught in a ridiculous rut, and in all honesty hanging out with a group of people that were no good. A man, to whom i now can truly call my best friend, and to whom i will bond and grow with for the rest of my life, and his car, changed my life. Such a simple thing, that one day jumped up and bit me in the ass. My calling card. Life’s way of telling me to do something different. All this from a man and a car.

i share this with you, not to just inform you on one of my passions, or how it came about, but to show you, that in life when something jumps up and bites you in the ass, remember why it did. Remember the people who were a part of it. Try to remember how it made you feel. In this world there is a reason behind everything. Take advantage in finding that reason. So many people go through their lives, waking up every morning with nothing to smile about. Whats your reason? When you do find it, cherish it, put it in front of everything, because at the end of the day, in your heart you know, that the juice is worth the squeeze. Alright alright i know that tail end part of that last sentence is a quote from the 2004 film “The girl next door” but damn did Emile Hirsche’s character Mattew Kidman nail it.

Find your passion!

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