A Bookish Boy

Although I've spent so much of my life dragging tons -- literally -- of books around behind me, I sometimes forget the powerful influence a select few have had on me. When I moved in with Ms. X earlier this year I promised her I would winnow down what we both thought was probably between 6,000 and 8,000 books to less than 1,000. We immediately started building bookcases at her house. We later determined that I had somewhere between 12,000 and 15,000 books. We gave them away to libraries, colleges and puzzled passersby as quickly as we could, but I still didn't hit my target of 1,000. She's been very patient!

It was very, very difficult to part with them. I've had visitors ask me "How many of these books have you read?" Duh. ALL of them. It's a terrible vice. Try to keep your children illiterate. One of my few innate abilities is speed reading and I used to read one book a night.

Only a handful of them have truly changed my life. The first ones included the scifi adventures that whetted my appetite for a lifelong interest in science. The first ones weren't something literary like Ray Bradbury, they were pure pulp like Tom Swift.

Later came books that had more substance, but were often pretty much ignored. Perhaps the biggest was "The True Believer" by Eric Hoffer. Hoffer had very little education -- he was often called "The Longshoreman Philosopher," but he had a first rate mind and had been deeply influenced by the horrors of the two biggest ideologies of the twentieth century -- fascism and communism. He eventually concluded that the followers of both were essentially the same people. At an age where I was trying to find my ethical footing, the lightbulb that went on in my head as I read has remained as a beacon of common sense for 40 years.

When I look at my shelves, I think I spot the "big influences" pretty easily. But tonight I realized that's not always the case.

It's Halloween. I set up a chair inside the door and scanned the shelves for some "light" reading to sustain me as the ghouls and Princess Leias marched up the walk.

I spotted an old favorite, but one I haven't read in 15 years: "Principles of Performance Driving" by Jackie Stewart (winner of 27 Formula One races. Still a record). I clearly remembered that I learned more about driving from this book than from any other source. I bought it after I was privileged to take a few laps at speed with Jackie back when he was flacking for Ford Motor Company. These were pretty amazing, glassy smooth hot laps on a banked track in a Ford TAURUS! Maybe more on that some other time.

I had been racing myself during two periods in my life. Early '70s and mid '80s. I'm a pretty good pilot, but was middle of the pack as a race driver (that's me in the photo circa 1985). Truth be told ... I could turn pretty hot laps, but was never going to be a winner.

Jackie's book had a big influence on me. As the years went by, that influence seemed to me to be primarily on my (street) driving, my flying and maybe my fairly recent motorcycling. Well and good. Those are pursuits where good advice can keep you healthy. As I reread the beginning of his book, I recognized a number of principles that I use on the road every day. Good stuff.

But as I continued to read the first chapter, I began to see something else. Something much more. I began to realize that this book was one of those that changed my life. A book about driving? Oh yeah.

I was about 33 when I bought the book. And I was trying very hard to grow up. Some of the growing up that people do as they walk across the stage with their high school diplomas still hadn't happened to me (Despite a high grade point average, I didn't bother to attend my graduation. I was in Haight-Ashbury in San Francisco trying to be cool).

But back to Mr. Stewart's "instructional" book. I had a real problem at the time with understanding the risk taking part vs. rational part of my personality. As the people who have REALLY known me will tell you, both traits are deeply ingrained. The fact that they are sometimes directly contradictory ... well, that was a real problem for me.

But Jackie layed it all out. There it was. A life that had no trouble reconciling these two fire and ice characteristics.

Jackie is dyslexic. He can barely read and in his foreword talks about what torture writing his first book "Faster" was. All I can say is, he may have to use a tape recorder to write, but he is truly a brilliant guy. Step by step, he walked me through how to make it work. If you have a personality conflict like mine, just read Chapter One. You'll be all better. I can't drive like he can, but I can approach some puzzles like he does.

I still have a dozen or so books that changed my life, but that's the only one written by a race driver.