I believe that into most people's lives such an outstanding personality will come. Someone like Art Bates, who was one of my best friends through the 1970's. The closest members of our little circle called him "Master Bates", which always drew a chuckle from him and anyone else within earshot. He drove a well modified Volkswagen Beetle, powered by a pro built Porsche 1600. I drove a highly modified Triumph Spitfire, and the two of us spent most of our days, and nights, blasting around the back streets and highways around the western Chicago suburbs. We competed in gymkhanas together. Spent nasty days inside our garages, working on each other's cars. Art was diabetic, and each day was a battle to maintain that equalibrium that would allow him to participate in the activities we loved. Eventually, he had to have both legs amputated. But that didn't slow him down any. He approached that ordeal with the same level of humor that he did with everything else. Art was fitted with prosthetic legs, which he discovered could be worn backwards. So one of his favorite stunts was to put them on backwards and walk backwards, as if the legs were going the right way and the rest of his body was turned around. (this was one of those "you had to be there" situations) His health continued to deteriorate until he was bedridden. We spent his final days reading Autoweek and Road and Track. He slipped away in his sleep. He never once expressed a word of bitterness at how things turned out.
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