I was a Cub Scout, and there are some very vivid memories from that time in my life. One in particular stands out. I had just bought a pinewood derby car. For those of you who don’t know, this is a small rectangular wood block that Scouts carve into a car shape and race down a ramp. I had just gotten my first one, and my dad brought me into the garage. He let me outline the shape of the car I want, and then he cut along the line I had drawn. Then he gave me some sandpaper. I spent hours shaping it, painting it, and getting ready to race it. It was psyched. My dad would ask me, “are you sure you want to do that?” in a tone I’ve come over the years to associate with parental panic.
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