When I was six years old, we had a Rupp mini bike. It was really cool back in the 60's to have a Rupp mini bike. My brother is 5 years older, so it made sense to have one. Apparently it also made perfect sense to turn me loose on the thing.
Our Rupp TT-500 had a 5hp Tecumseh that never liked to start but ran like a banshee with the straight pipe exhaust my dad put on it. Screw those stupid mufflers. It had a two speed clutch. The chain literally jumped from one sprocket to the next when you got to a certain speed, so there was no input other than speed that made it happen. It would literally pull the front tire off the ground when it shifted if you were accelerating quickly, especially with a 50 pound six year old driving.
Being 6 years old and a bit short for my age anyway, mounting the mini bike required me to stand on the step to our back door while my dad held the thing. If you're thinking that sounds like the beginning to a problem, it definitely is. After I sat on the thing and took off, my legs weren't long enough to actually touch the ground.
My Dad would pull start the thing and watch me tear off up the hill in our backyard to hundreds of acres of woods and miles of trails. Sound dangerous? Helmet? I didn't need no stinking helmet. But I was a smart 6 year old and knew what to be scared of: DAD! Not broken bones, concussions, being pinned under a machine that was twice my weight (kids were skinny in the 60's).
I was paranoid about crashing the thing, not because of getting injured, killed or bloody. Of course, I crashed and OFTEN. Really great crashes, the kind that makes you get dirt in your mouth and teeth. Bouncing off the ground crashes and then rolling a couple times like Evil Knievel!
The engine would sometimes keep running, but I couldn't pick it up or get back on it. So I'd shut it off and walk home. No matter what, my Dad would be pissed-off that I'd crashed. He'd say something like, "Well, where is it? Did you even shut it off?" He said most of this while walking up the hill toward the woods. I would do my best to describe how I fell and where it was.
He'd come riding it back to the house and most often not let me go loose on the machine again that day. No way was he going to retrieve the thing twice the same day. It was okay if I lost control going 35 miles per hour, fell off and barrel rolled with the mini bike. Or went tearing into a bunch of sand, lost control and flew over the handlebars. The sand pit crashes were the worst, because it always made you get dirt in your teeth, hair, eyes, ears and everywhere else.
It wasn't okay with my Dad to HIT TREES! If I hit a tree, he would definitely come home and ask me "Did the tree jump out and hit you or did you just not see a big tree right in front of you?" Only a dumbass 6 year old runs into trees.
So let's talk about the Democrats. They lost their super, filibuster-busting majority in the Senate yesterday and might have lost the ability to reform health care. Hey dumbasses! Were you all just buzzing along like a 6 year old on a Rupp mini bike when that tree jumped out in front of you? How long did you know this little election thing was coming? Didn't it seem perfectly obvious that the Republicans would put 110% (the other 10% is illegal shit) of their resources into getting their guy into office?
Now the Democrats are just like me walking around a little dazed after blazing right into a tree that jumped right in the way. What a dumbass manuever that was. I'm feeling like my Dad had to feel. There's a tree and you knew it was there all along. And my message to everyone from President Obama on down, "YOU ARE NOT A BUNCH OF SIX YEAR OLD KIDS!"
Seriously! This politics thing is supposed to be a science, like Political Science. That means that people went to school and actually figured out what is supposed to happen and how to make things happen. But DOH! Dang, who put that tree there?
So what the hell does this have to do with screenwriting? I have no idea whatsoever. Maybe if the day comes that I ever sell a screenplay, I'll go find one of those Rupp's with the 5hp Tecumseh and the two speed clutch. There are a five or six acres of woods across the street from where I live, with plenty of trees. Hell, I'd even wear a helmet.
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