1984: A good friend (who is longer with us, sadly) was driving my old Caddy through the desert southwest on some godforsaken two-lane highway at something close to full throttle. I was asleep in the back seat, and woke up when we went over a bump, or maybe we ran over somebody. Who knows. I looked over the seat and saw the speedo was very nearly buried. I said "In a hurry, Cliff?" He responded "ZZZZzzz...(snort)....HUH?" Needless to say I took over the driving for the rest of that road trip. If we'd gone off the road out there, at that speed, it would've looked like a plane crash and we'd probably still be there. 1980: Not long after I larnt how to ride a street bike I was out riding like an ass and found out the hard way, the American way, why, one, you brake BEFORE the corner, not in it, and two, why you should stay off the yellow line while leaned over in a corner. The road rash healed fairly quickly, but the torn ACL has been with me ever since. Doctor is talking total knee replacement surgery next year.