by Doug “Uncola” Lynn
The Burning Platform
In the mid-nineteen-eighties, while contemplating two post-graduate opportunities, I needed to earn some fast cash so I thought I’d give selling cars a try. Why not? From a young age I had a love of cars, motorcycles, and airplanes. And camping. In fact, I’ve traveled through 41 of 50 states, camped in a fair percentage of them, and once even worked at a motor-home dealer in the Pacific Northwest detailing rigs. After a few months, I worked my way up to sales and sold my first motorhome to some Seventh Day Adventists on my eighteenth birthday.
Oh man. I have so many stories. My coworkers were mechanics who were Hells Angels. I stopped two of them one day from abusing a stray cat that I later adopted, even though I hated cats at the time. Although I earned the respect of those bikers, I’m sure things would have escalated if they didn’t have more respect for my older brother, an ex-jungle fighter who’s crazy like a fox and quicker than a Puff Adder.