Will shoot you a PM, Rob.
Been here in NY now for a week. And it’s been a long week, too, sometime time dilates because of boredom and anticipation (think of how slowly minutes pass while waiting to get out of a plane) but sometimes time slows because life is good, really good. The hero of the New York chapter has been, is--and always will be--a man I call Dr. J. The guy is a complete oxymoron, a combination of seemingly disparate, contradictory and exclusionary qualities all wrapped into one. He’s got musculature that puts him in a category of the Incredible Hulk, an intellect that puts him well into Professor X/genius territory, has enough dare-devil and risk-taking stories to last a lifetime (including racing in Grand Am), but also, oh, happens to be a surgeon….you name it and he’s done it. And if you’ve lusted after it he’s probably owned it, too (including a boss GT3 RS). But god damn if he also isn’t the humblest, nicest, most sincere, and unaffected guy you've ever met (contrasts nicely with a NY accent that could easily land him in a role of baritone mob boss in a Coppola Mafia Trilogy). In short, he’s the kind of guy who could destroy competitors as easily on a track (or in a fight) as easily as he could dispatch contenders on Jeopardy. If there was a zombie apocalypse or a hostile alien invasion or WWIII, he’s the guy I’d call first.
Here's the man, with an infectious smile and the kind of laugh that makes others wish they were half as happy (notice Steve Tyler sulking in the background):
We first started talking around Indianapolis after my post about how people adopt a particular persona and outward appearance based on the activities they participate in and offered up his boat to me whenever I got to NY. Being the modest guy he is, the “boat” turned out to be a 3 bedroom/2 bath yacht (WiFi, washer/dryer, kitchen, and a fully stocked bar). It’s a floating luxury apartment, not a ‘boat’!