I managed to watch all of them through the day.
Moto3 - Mugello is always amazing.
Moto2 - Got enjoy seeing the Americans percolate.
MotoGP - a chaotic yet stagnant race.
I know - that doesn't reflect the madness of the changes of fortune, but Quartararo is evolving into a Marquez/Rossi/Doohan animal. And it seems to eat what it wants. His comfort zone covers more range than the others. Pushing that M1 hard enough to carry that power wheelie at the end of the straight where the others won't... He's just finding that edge everywhere.
I took Dupasquier's passing hard.
The announcement of his passing, just before the Moto2 race, followed a Saturday where I was picking up some tansu cabinets I'd had refinished way up north in Berkeley. After a five hour nap from a 14-hour nightshift, I busted my ass in the GMC to get through Bay Area traffic before they closed at 17:00. After I paid, and I got my stuff outside by the truck, the young man running the store was telling me about his operation, how he'd followed his father into the world of repairing and importing tansu, and the long-time people his father and he have known and worked with through the years.
Guys like the Sun brothers in Shanghai. "Little Sunny" and the older one "Big Sunny" are carpenters doing custom work in traditional Kiri wood methods, and these folks go way back together. We started chatting about how the entire supply stream is messed up across the globe, from materials and labor at the source, to the port just a handful of miles away in Oakland that has a container in it which he's had a hell of a time extracting.
The store owner's phone rang, and when he looked at its black glass face, he said "Oh, wow - Shanghai! I have to take this." And he walked inside.
Barely had I returned to loading the pickup when he came back out to the parking lot. He looked as cold as the fog overhead.
"Big Sunny's dead," he said. "He just died of a stroke."
Supports splitting everywhere.
Locked
