As good as I felt when I got to go riding, my hours at work were becoming almost intolerable. Most of my video game customers were Navy ships. They had them in the game rooms of carriers and some of other bigger ships. I had this appliance dolly that I'd be dragging these video games up a down these ladders and through watertight doors. We'd load them up with working games before they went out to sea. They were kind of on their own to fix them when they were at sea. They'd come back in pretty rough shape. So then we'd take them all off and fix or scrap them and install another batch and some other ship. A few kept them on all the time, but that was only about 2 or 3 games, compared to 10-15 on a carrier. But that wasn't the bad part. I enjoyed most of the installs. It got me out of the shop.

This business was quite cyclical and the cycle hit a low ebb. The shop slowly became overflowing with video games. My overtime disappeared. The only other full time employee in the shop, my boss, was getting very strange. I was beginning to wonder if the thin veil of sanity he was still wearing was about to slip off his face like a decaying Halloween mask. But I digress.

Unfortunately, the fragile payment structure that was keeping me riding pretty much crumbled when I had major car problems. Much as I hated to do it, I sold my bike, my moto trailer to pay for repairs to my car. I then sold the car to buy a pick-up The person who bought the bike, who I will refer to rather plainly as Dwight F, was just starting out racing. Years later, when I'd check the results in Virginia district races, I saw he worked his way up to A class and did pretty good in the vet classes. After a while, it ended up being the only name I would recognize other than people's kids. But I jump ahead in time, again.