This past weekend about 15 of us went up to Big Pine, Ca for Seth's(Tenney) bachelor party.  Here's one of the many stories:  "Here's the game boys! Ya gotta shoot the target, down the beer, then ride three laps on the dirt bike, got it?!" Core took a practice lap with a stiff but dedicated style, his hat backwards, a cigarette dangling from his lips. Approaching the  stopping zone the bike accelerated instead of braking and sped off the designated track, the only thing between them and the brush and the river was a big white propane tank, used earlier to light the BBQ, but soon after was distanced from the group for safety reasons. We all saw the future, our bodies like one synchronized machine took those two, inherent and protective steps forward as that shaky, mini bike carrying a happy grown man, rushed, as if being pulled by a magnet, towards the inanimate danger. With the distance closing quick, a collective gasp went out as Corey was sent to the sky and  the metal on metal produced a sustained Ding! The bike fell dead, the tank budged barely and Corey hit the ground and rolled with style.  He stood to his feet and threw his arms in the air as the group of us were laughing so hard we were crying.  --RW