Before he was a teenager he was working in his dad’s repair shop. He knew the tools of the trade, and he knew the machines, Ford, Chevy, Dodge.

He knew them as well from their workings as he did from behind the wheel. The feel of the cylinders firing and the throttle opened way up, pushing the RPMs to the limit and running through the gears.

Now on a warm summer Sunday, he was in his own garage. He had music streaming in the background, and he was deep into a rebuild he had been working on every night after work.

It was a passion, and to him, it was something that just clicked. click click, click click as he navigated the various diagnostic screens. He set the final code to compile, satisfied in his work, and almost triumphant in his mastery over the machine’s code. He sat back and smiled, closing his eyes as he pressed the remote ignition start and heard the engine roar to life.

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