First off: I'm going to leave a lot out. I won't talk about my childhood, except to say that where I grew up, the ground was frozen for half of the year. I won't talk about high school or old girlfriends. I won't do the facebook nonsense where one writes about their cat or their family -- except to say that the dozen most intellegent people I've ever known were blood relatives, mostly female; lets just say we have a knack for higher math and languages. I will admit to the following: at seventeen I long jumped seven meters (~23'); at thirty five I dead-lifted three hundred fifty kilograms (~770lbs). Enough of that. Nowadays, I must concentrate before I stand and a walk around the block includes several stops to rest my back.
For various reasons, my early memory is not clear; although I do remember my fourth birthday -- and one incident before that that I can't quite put into the correct chronological spot. My clear memory starts in my twenties. I started working in the motorcycle industry in the early '70s. For the next twenty years (about), I worked all aspects of a dealership outside of the front office, including floor sales and serving as parts and service manager simultaneously at two dealerships. I refer you to my résumé for details. I worked eighteen brands: all JP, UK, IT, DE, and some exotics. Never HD.
In the early nineties, I was struck down by a malady that usually manifests by age twenty; I was thirty five. I won't name it or detail the symptoms, but suffice to say it became impossible for me to maintain my full-tilt style of public inter-action. I was certified disabled and have lived (mostly) on Social Security since.
At the time, my interests were women, weightlifting, and long distance bicycling. My health and physique were superb. As a side point, I should mention that I was also a voraceous reader: technical material, history, fiction, everything; I was something of a polymath. When I had worked, I carried tens of thousands of part numbers around in my head: I looked at the different manufacturers' numbering schemes as languages to learn. Eventually, I got bored.
More as the spirit moves me . . . .
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