Unc's Favorite Quote of the Month
"Early in life, I had to choose between honest arrogance and hypocritical humility. I chose honest arrogance and have seen no occasion to change"
Frank Lloyd Wright
What about Unca Frank Intergalactic Enterprises?
Here at Unca Frank Intergalactic Enterprises World Headquarters in Baja Pungo, we like to think of our far-flung empire as sort of like "Myst," but without the pictures and most of the thinking. UFIE is currently concentrating on grind- ing the world of slot car drag racing under the heel of its omni- present boot, learning to (rapidly) identify lethal swamp creatures, and searching for the perfect pastrami/swiss/dark rye sandwich. UFIE is not currently a wildly viable commercial entity, at least not as defined by Unca Frank’s wife and the IRS. One should recall, however that it also took bill gates more than a few free weekends to become !!!BILL GATES!!!
© 1998 UFIE f_eubel@juno.com
The Dead Squirrel/Lunchbox Theory of Racing
(as originated by Bob Lobenberg and Parker Johnstone regarding full-sized road racing but applicable to other forms nonetheless)
When/if the fast guy in your Class shows up at the track with a dead squirrel racetaped to one of his valve covers and an empty Flintstones lunchbox bolted to his transaxle, and then proceeds to qualify with blazing new lap records every lap, lead every lap of the race going away while lowering the record even more, the following will happen:At the next race, twelve guys will have dead squirrels taped to their valve covers, two will have 2 squirrels, one for each engine bank, and two will have a groundhog or possum. 10 guys will have Flintstone lunchboxes, three will have Speed Racer boxes, and one rich guy will have an original Howdy Doody box attached with hollow titanium bolts and carbon-boron monofilament washers.
And when you ask each of them why they're doing it, they will all reply "Well, it makes the car faster." Meanwhile, the guy who originally showed up with the stuff is back at his pits removing the squirrel from the valve cover in preparation for selling it to a desperate racer for $300. He is also laughing his *** off.
Not that you care what I think, but...
...if you've made it this far, you've probably figured most of it out anyhow. Web sites are the soapboxes for the new millenium, objects/devices/concepts/whatever that inspire "writers block" for the ego. That, or as my brother drolly put it the first time he saw my racing plaques and trophies on a mantle, "Hmm. I see that you have an "I-love-me" wall." You, a monitor screen, and no one or everyone in the universe.
How oddly these boxes affect you ; I wouldn't think of having a giant neon sign on the top of my house blinking "Look At Me!" Yet I look forward to filling web pages with the obscure and/or amusing trash that litters the corners of my mental neighborhood. Just like most everyone else out here, I guess.
Yeah, I know - lighten up, Unc. Good idea. On with the show.
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