Some people were born with a silver spoon in their hand.
I was born with a steering wheel in mine.

Before ever taking my first breath of air, or seeing my first ray of sunlight; my ears were being filled with the sweet sound of engines screaming at high RPMs, and my body was engulfed with sensations of "G forces". For several months while pregnant with me, my mother continued to race karts and go for "canyon" rides in my dad's sports car.

Shortly after birth it was obvious that I was destined to be a driver. If it had wheels, I was into it; �. Hot Wheels (you can never have too many), Big Wheels (plastic melts at high speed), Tonka Trucks (the dump bed fits a small butt for downhill racing), skate boards (there is less aerodynamic drag if you lay on your back), and bicycles (some scars never go away).

Dad had always promised that as soon as I could reach the pedals I could start racing the sprint kart. Thick soled shoes, extra socks and a little extra padding in the rear can make up for a few inches. By nine I had started on my racing odyssey, one that would take me on many highs and many lows. Racing is like a drug, it's addictive. When you are behind the wheel, there is no better feeling, (sex or racing? tough choice!) but sit out for a while and all you think about is getting that next fix!

The adolescent activities of high school and the financial realities of racing (minimum wage won't cover a set of tires) put my career on the back burner for a while. Even so, I continued to work on my driving skills;�drag racing, mud wompin' and hill climbing with Dad's 455ci big block, trailer towing station wagon. I had fun fun fun 'till my daddy took the big block away! I was forced to buy my own hot rod, a'67 Olds 442 with a 400ci big block, 3 speed stick and Z-28 wheels, nothin' else. No air, no heater, no power brakes, and no power steering (fun on a 4000lb. car). Grandpa owned it, dad owned it, brother owned it, then I owned it (paid $300 for it), got hit and received $600 from insurance, and traded it for a car worth twice as much (6 mpg and college don't mix).

After convincing the state to pay for 2 years of aircraft maintenance school I decided that wrenching on planes wasn't were my heart was. I was scanning the ads in the back of Auto Week and spotted an ad that said "race for free!" I'm smart enough to know that the words "race" and "free" don't go together but I called anyways (it was an 800 number). Two weeks later I was on the road to Toronto Canada (from L.A.) to the Spenard-David Racing School, having pulled off the coup of a lifetime. Mom and dad had always said that as long as I was in "school" they would continue to financially support me. Well, because the word "School" prominently appears in the name, I was able to convince them that by attending their mechanics training program I would be continuing my education!(I'm selling some swampland in Florida if you're interested) You wrench on the race cars, they train you to drive them. I spent 9 months learning to drive an open wheel formula car (real race cars don't have doors) and have never sat in one since.

Shortly after returning to L.A., I purchased my first race car, a'89 IROC Camaro built for SCCA showroom stock racing, figuring that because the car was stock with only safety upgrades, it would be cheap to race�..WRONG!!! There is very little on these cars that stay stock (if you want to be competitive). The cost of cheating while still appearing stock is crazy! I quickly learned the game and won some races. Unfortunately, the last race of the season, before heading off to the national run-offs, someone finally got caught for cheating.�ME�. So I sold that car and bought a "real" race car, one that cost a little more but ran a lot faster (1:21's at Willow Springs) a NASCAR type late model stock car. Parts were cheap and available, and you didn't need to cheat to win. I ran for most of 5 seasons in the IRRA Sportsman Stockcar series (pro racing, it pays money and trophies!!!!!). If you haven't seen stock cars on a road course, you are missing out. This is a full contact sport (rubbin' is racin').

During this time I began doing one-on-one teaching for other racers. I found out I was a pretty good teacher when my students began to challenge me for the top positions. I still want to beat them, but it is very satisfying to see them progress to the front. I figure that after I beat most of you in the OTC you'll be calling me for some help!